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OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


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The  Works  of 


CHARLES     PAUL     De KOCK 


With  a   Gknerajl    Introduction   by 


JULES    CLARETIE 


Adhemar 


Translated    into    English    by 


EDITH    MARY    NORRIS 


THE    FREDERICK   J.    QUINBY    COMPANY 

NEW    YORK  LONDON  PARIS 


Edition 


Limited  to  One  Thousand  Coties 


Number^ 


Copyright,  1904,  by 
The  Frederic-k  J.  Quinby  Company 

All  rishU  reserved 


Prikted  on  Old  Stratford  Paper  made  by 
MiTTiNEAGUE  Paper  Company 


$Itm))ton  |$tess 

Printers  and  Binders,  Norwood,  Mass. 
U.S.A. 


SMCKAMNGI 

pa 

A2ZE 

CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 
A  Meeting  of  Four i 

CHAPTER  n 
A  Burning  Gown 23 

CHAPTER  III 
A  Dealer  in  Toilet  Articles 31 

CHAPTER  IV 
Two  Friends 49 

CHAPTER   V 
A  Little  Served  in  Large  Dishes 61 

CHAPTER   VI 
A  Miscellaneous  Dinner  Party 79 

CHAPTER  VII 
How  It  Began loi 

CHAPTER  VIII 
The  Dubotte  Household 11 1 


999RRrifi 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  IX 
Drive  Away  Natural  Impulses,  They  Return  at  a 

Gallop 131 

CHAPTER  X 
A  Young  Man  Who  Did  Not  Smoke    ....      143 

CHAPTER  XI 
An  Ugly  Brother-in-Law I73 

CHAPTER  XII 
A  Box  in  the  Pit 187 

CHAPTER   XIII 
Incorrigible ^99 

CHAPTER  XIV 
Monsieur  Seringat's  Secret 213 

CHAPTER  XV 
The  End  of  the  Year.     Little  Streams  .     ...     225 


CHAPTER    I 
A  Meeting  of  Four 

Five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  was  just  striking 
as  a  young  exquisite,  with  a  good  figure  and  a  very 
agreeable  expression  of  countenance,  although  at 
times  his  big  blue  eyes  expressed  a  decided  liking 
for  raillery,  entered  the  cafe  which  is  situated  on 
the  corner  of  the  Faubourg  Poissoniere  and  the 
boulevard,  on  the  right  as  you  come  from  the 
boulevards. 

This  young  man  glanced  around  the  first  room, 
then  he  went  into  those  which  lay  beyond,  saying 
to  himself, — 

"  Nobody  here  !  Not  a  single  one  of  them  has 
come.  Not  a  single  one  of  them  will  come,  per- 
haps ;  for  in  five  years  one  has  plenty  of  time  to 
forget  an  appointment.  However,  I  remembered 
it.  I  am  positively  certain  they  have  not  all  joined 
the  great  majority,  for  I  met  Dodichet  barely  two 
months  ago  ;  and  I  have  seen  Dubotte  at  the  thea- 
tre within  the  past  week ;  Lucien  is  the  only  one 
of  whom  I  have  seen  or  heard  nothing  for  a  long 
time  now.  Well,  I  must  wait  a  bit.  They  have 
still  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  grace  !  " 

The    young    gentleman,    by   name    Adhemar 

Vol.  XXIV        1 


2  adh£mar 

Montbrun,  seated  himself  at  a  table,  took  up  a 
newspaper,  ordered  a  glass  of  chartreuse,  and  read 
a  criticism  of  a  piece  which  had  had  a  great  suc- 
cess on  the  evening  before,  but  which  the  journal- 
ist damned  because  the  author  was  not  one  of  his 
friends;  which, fortunately, did  not  prevent  the  play 
from  making  its  way  and  having  a  long  run,  as  the 
public  was  beginning  to  take  at  their  true  value  the 
articles  of  these  Aristarchuses  of  the  press,  who  have, 
as  a  general  thing,  taken  for  their  motto,  "Nobody 
has  any  wit  but  we  and  our  friends." 

Adhemar  had  not  been  reading  the  paper  for  two 
minutes  when  a  gentleman  who  entered  the  cafe 
came  straight  to  where  he  was  seated  and  slapped 
him  on  the  shoulder,  saying, — 

"  Well,  here  I  am  too,  old  fellow  !  as  prompt  as 
the  sun  —  that  is,  when  he  shines.  You  see,  I 
didn't  forget  our  appointment.  Good-day,  Adhe- 
mar, I'm  dehghted  to  see  you  again.  Are  you  well .'' 
I  am  perfectly  so,  as  you  may  see  for  yourself. 
Everyone  says  that  I  look  thriving.  That  bothers 
me  sometimes,  for  I've  noticed  that  your  very  pros- 
perous people  often  look  stupid  too;  but  I  hope 
I  don't  go  so  far  as  that ! " 

This  second  personage  was  a  man  of  thirty  who 
quite  looked  his  age,  for  he  was  already  rather  stout; 
rather  under  than  over  medium  height,  a  plain,  red, 
and  always  jolly-looking  face,  with  a  perfect  thicket 
of  curly  light  hair,  china-blue  eyes  as  round  as  those 
of  a  cat,  and  immense  mutton-chop  whiskers.  Such 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK  3 

was  Philemon  Dubotte,who  thought  himself  a  very- 
pretty  fellow  and  paid  court  to  all  the  ladies,  but 
was  very  neglectful  of  his  wife,  who,  on  the  con- 
trary, adored  him  and  overwhelmed  him  with  ca- 
resses. But  this  is  often  the  way  with  the  ladies, 
the  colder  one  is  with  them,  the  more  ardent  their 
affection  becomes  ;  as  far  as  that  is  concerned,  you 
will  tell  me,  they  are  so,  perhaps,  in  order  to  re- 
awaken their  husband's  love. 

Adhemar  pressed  the  newcomer's  hand. 
"  Good-day,  Philemon,  sit  you  down  there.  Yes, 
you  look  so  well  that  it's  delightful  to  see  you !" 
"  Believe  me,  I  not  only  look  well,  but  I  am  so 
—  I'm  as  sound  as  the  Porte  Saint-Denis  !     By  the 
way,  is  the  Porte  Saint-Denis  still  standing  ? " 
"  Yes,  of  course  !  " 

"They  are  demolishing  so  many  things  !  Well, 
then,  I  was  correct  in  saying  I  am  as  sound  as  the 
Porte  Saint-Denis.'* 

"  I  see  you  have  a  good  memory  !  " 
"And  why  shouldn't  I  have  one  ?  " 
"In  five  years  one  may  forget  many  things!" 
"In  love,  possibly,  but  not  in  friendship." 
"  People  forget  in  friendship  as  they  do  in  love. 
Memory  is  one  of  the  rarest  things  on  earth,  espe- 
cially the  memory  of  the  heart." 

"  There  you  go !  just  the  same  as  ever ;  you  have 
confidence  in  nothing." 

"  I'm  not  to  blame  for  the  fact  that  my  confi- 
dence has  always  been  misplaced.     Time  deprives 


4  ADHEMAR 

us  of  our  illusions,  and  in  five  years  I've  lost  a 
devilish  lot  of  them." 

"  As  for  me,  I  have  lost  nothing  at  all.  I  still 
worship  the  fair  sex,  who,  I  am  bound  to  say,  re- 
turn the  compliment,  too  ardently  sometimes,  even. 
For  I  have  a  wife  —  you  don't  know  my  wife,  but 
you  must  make  her  acquaintance — my  dear  fellow ! 
she  worships  me,  she  idolizes  me  —  it  is  a  verita- 
ble passion !  When  I  am  away  from  her  for  half 
a  day,  she  no  longer  exists,  she  doesn't  eat,  she  lan- 
guishes, she  even  carries  it  so  far  as  to  weep.  When 
I  come  in  I  am  obliged  to  scold  her.  I  say  to  her, 
*  Eleonore  '  she's  named  Eleonore  —  I  say  *Why, 
Nonore,  what  does  this  mean  ?  What,  I  can't  ab- 
sent myself,  stay  a  little  late  with  my  friends,  with- 
out finding  you  in  tears  on  my  return  ? '  She  will 
kiss  me  and  say,  *  I  thought  you  had  fallen  from 
the  top  of  an  omnibus;  my  dear,  I  beg  of  you  don't 
go  on  the  outside,  to  those  horrid  three-sous  places. 
Go  inside,  Philemon,  I  beg  of  you,  go  inside,  and 
you  will  obHge  me  very  much.'  That's  how  my 
wife  is,  and  I  assure  you  it  is  extremely  tiresome 
to  be  loved  to  such  a  point  as  that." 

"You  complain  that  your  wife  is  too  fond  of  you ! 
but  that  will  not  last  forever." 

"I  should  hope  not, — poor  Nonore  I  if  she  did 
but  know  how  unworthy  I  am  of  such  adoration,  for 
I  am  a  thorough  rascal.  I  can't  see  a  pretty  face 
without  making  eyes  at  it.  But  there's  Lucien ; 
come,  I  really  think  our  party  will  be  complete." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK  5 

The  person  who  came  towards  the  table  where 
the  two  friends  were  sitting  was  a  young  man  of 
twenty-six,  tall,  slight,  and  extremely  thin  ;  his  face 
was  pale,  but  his  features  were  very  handsome,  his 
eyes  very  soft,  and  his  manners  were  such  as  to  inspire 
those  who  spoke  to  him  with  interest.  His  dress 
was  respectable,  but  was  not  indicative  of  easy  cir- 
cumstances ;  his  black  coat,  which  was  buttoned  from 
top  to  bottom,  had  been  brushed  and  rebrushed  a 
score  of  times ;  no  one  would  have  dared  to  lay  hold 
of  the  tail  of  this  coat  for  fear  it  might  remain  in 
his  hand  detached  from  the  garment  to  which  it  be- 
longed. His  black  necktie  allowed  one  to  perceive 
only  the  slightest  tip  of  his  collar;  his  hat  seemed 
to  have  been  cleaned  with  water,  but  his  gray  trou- 
sers had  not  the  slightest  stain  of  mud ;  and  his 
shoes,  if  they  were  not  varnished,  were  at  least  care- 
fully blacked.  This  third  personage  was  called 
Lucien  Grischard. 

As  soon  as  he  perceived  Lucien  at  a  distance 
Adhemar  rose  and  extended  his  hand  as  the  thin 
young  man  drew  near,  exclaiming, — 

"  How  do  you  do,  Lucien,  my  dear  fellow  ? 
How  pleased  I  am  to  see  you  again,  for  it  is  quite 
a  long  time  —  nearly  two  years  —  since  I  have  had 
that  pleasure  !  " 

"  That  is  true.  Monsieur  Adhemar,  and  I  also 
am  delighted  to  see  you,  for  I  had  impatiently 
awaited  this  day  which  was  to  bring  us  together." 

"  And  why  do  you  call  me  monsieur  now  ?  and 


6  ADHfiMAR 

not  Adhemar,  as  formerly  ?  Am  I  not  still  your 
old  schoolfellow  ? " 

"  Oh,  excuse  me  —  but  that  Is  so  long  ago,  and 
then  in  the  past  five  years  you  have  made  a  success 
in  literature,  as  a  playwright ;  you  have  become  a 
celebrity ;  while  I  —  well,  I  have  remained  alto- 
gether in  the  shade." 

"  My  dear  Lucien,  if  fame  were  to  part  us  from 
all  our  friends,  we  should  have  to  repulse  it,  instead 
of  desiring  it.  I  don't  think  mine  has  risen  to  such 
a  height  as  yet  as  to  make  any  one  envious." 

"  Don't  think  for  a  moment  that  I  experienced 
any  such  feeling  on  hearing  of  your  successes.  On 
the  contrary,  I  rejoiced  and  said  to  myself,  *  He's 
making  his  way,  at  least.'  " 

While  this  third  friend  was  talking  with  Adhe- 
mar, Philemon,  the  fair  man,  was  examining  him 
with  persistent  attention,  and  the  sight  of  the  thread- 
bare coat  and  the  water-cleansed  hat  did  not  seem 
to  give  a  very  lively  impulse  to  his  friendship  ; 
however,  he  also  shook  hands  with  Lucien  and  said 
to  him,  almost  in  the  tone  of  a  protector, — 

"  Good-day,  Lucien,  good-day,  my  dear  fellow. 
Confound  it,  you  haven't  grown  fat  since  I  last  saw 
you." 

"  I  can't  say  so  much  for  you,  Philemon,  for  you 
are  almost  as  round  as  a  barrel." 

"  A  barrel !  —  that's  putting  it  rather  strongly, 
but,  after  all,  I  would  much  rather  resemble  a  bar- 
rel than  a  gun  barrel." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK  7 

Instead  of  being  vexed  by  this  comparison, 
Lucien  shouted  with  laughter,  while  Adheraar  ex- 
claimed,— 

"  Well,  messieurs,  how's  this  ?  School  comrades 
meeting  after  five  years  only  to  say  sharp  things 
to  each  other  ?  is  that  how  we  should  meet  again 
after  a  lustre  has  passed  over  our  heads  ?  and  have 
you  become  so  susceptible  as  to  get  angry  at  a 
joke  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  angry  at  all !  "  answered  Lucien, 
"  quite  the  contrary,  you  saw  how  Philemon's  word 
made  me  laugh." 

"  I  confess,"  admitted  Dubotte,  "  that  I  cannot 
bear  to  be  compared  to  a  barrel.  Any  sobriquet 
you  like,  except  that !  But  I  bear  Lucien  no  grudge. 
Come,  sit  you  down  beside  us,  my  dear  fellow  ;  you 
are  going  to  take  something." 

"  Thanks,  but  it  seems  to  me  our  party  is  not 
yet  complete  ;  some  one  is  missing,  and  that  is 
Dodichet." 

"  Oh,  we  mustn't  count  on  him.  When  did 
Dodichet  ever  keep  his  word  ?  Does  he  know 
what  it  is  to  keep  a  promise  ?  He's  a  good  fellow, 
but  he's  a  crazy  pate,  a  featherbrain,  who  always 
has  a  thousand  plans  of  which  he  never  puts  a 
single  one  into  execution,  and  who  never  has  the 
slightest  remembrance  in  the  morning  of  what  he 
has  said  the  evening  before." 

"  Deuce  take  it,  Philemon,  you  judge  him  too 
harshly." 


8  ADHfeMAR 

"  I  only  say  what  is  true.  However,  for  five 
years  I  have  seen  very  little  of  him,  he  may  have 
amended." 

"  No,"  said  Adhemar,  "  Dodichet  is  still  the 
same.  I  have  several  times  had  occasion  to  meet 
him,  and  I  have  seen  with  pain  that  our  old  com- 
rade Dodichet  had  not  become  more  reasonable. 
He  was  in  a  position  where  he  had  every  chance  of 
succeeding,  for  he  is  no  fool  and  he  had  some 
money  from  his  parents  ;  but  he  thinks  of  nothing 
but  amusing  himself  and  having  what  he  calls  *  a 
good  time  ' ;  but  he  is  not  always  successful  in  this 
and  sometimes  it  costs  him  dear.  Now,  I  believe, 
he's  almost  ruined,  and,  unluckily,  he  has  not  yet 
decided  on  any  profession." 

**  Poor  Dodichet !  "  said  Lucien  thoughtfully, 
"then  he  must  be  unhappy  !  " 

"  Unhappy  !  he  ?  why,  that  he  never  will  be. 
He  laughs  at  everything,  sees  everything  through 
rose-colored  spectacles  — and  is  persuaded  that  he 
will  one  day  possess  a  hotel,  a  carriage  and  a  hun- 
dred thousand  francs  income.  He  has  the  hap- 
piest disposition  imaginable  !  " 

"  Why,  here  he  is,  by  Jove  !  "  cried  Philemon. 
"  Yes,  it  really  is  he  ;  he  has  remembered  our  ap- 
pointment. Then  he  has  a  better  memory  than 
I  gave  him  credit  for." 

A  new  personage  had,  In  fact,just  entered  the  cafe. 
He  was  a  man  of  from  twenty-six  to  twenty-seven 
years  of  age,  of  medium  height,  well  set-up,  brown 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK  9 

hair,  a  face  inclined  to  be  red,  lively  eyes,  a  turned- 
up  nose  and  an  enormous  mouth  —  in  short,  he 
looked  like  one  who  would  be  jolly  company.  His 
dress  was  rather  eccentric ;  his  trousers  being  im- 
mensely wide  at  the  legs  and  very  tight  over  the 
hips,  his  waistcoat  of  the  most  impossible  plaid, 
and  his  coat  so  short  that  it  came  only  a  few  inches 
below  the  waist.  On  his  head  was  a  gray  hat,  of 
which  the  shape  was  irrecognizable,  but  which 
looked  rather  like  a  snail  shell.  To  complete  his 
get-up,  he  carried  a  light  cane  with  an  ivory  handle, 
which  he  was  constantly  thrusting  into  his  mouth, 
or  rubbing  his  nose  or  his  ear  with  it.  Such  was 
M.  Fanfan  Dodichet,  who,  on  coming  into  the 
cafe,  began  by  twirling  his  cane  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  burst  a  paper  which  an  elderly  habitue  of  the 
cafe  was  reading  while  enjoying  his  fish. 

The  old  gentlemen  raised  his  head,  and  looked 
angrily  at  the  man  who  had  torn  his  paper;  and 
Dodichet,  instead  of  excusing  himself,  laughed  in 
the  old  man's  face,  and  said  to  him, — 

"  They'll  give  you  the  *  Tintamarre,'  it's  a  great 
deal  more  amusing  than  that.  I  am  sure  the  one 
you  are  reading  is  very  tiresome  —  I  saw  that  as  I 
came  in ;  I  said  to  myself,  *  There's  a  gentleman 
who's  feeling  the  need  of  changing  his  paper,  I'm 
going  to  furnish  him  with  an  occasion  to  do  so.'" 

Then,  without  awaiting  an  answer,  Dodichet 
scanned  all  the  tables  at  which  people  were  seated, 
and  perceiving  at  length  those  whom  he  sought, 


lo  ADHEMAR 

he  immediately  exclaimed,  as  though  he  had  been 
in  his  own  house, — 

"  Why,  here  they  are !  these  are  they — oh,  for- 
tunate destiny  !  " 

Then  he  began  to  sing, — 

Les  montagnards,  les  montagnards, 
Les  montagnards  sont  reunis  ! 

"Do  stop  your  noise,  Dodichet!"  said  Dubotte, 
without  taking  the  hand  which  the  newcomer  ex- 
tended to  him  ;  "you  will  compromise  us.  What 
do  you  look  like  singing  like  that  in  a  cafe  full  of 
people,  they'll  be  giving  you  two  sous  next." 

"  Well,  if  everybody  here  were  to  give  me  two 
sous  that  would  make  a  nice  little  round  sum ;  but 
our  handsome  blond  is  always  afraid  of  being  com- 
promised. He's  immense,  is  Dubotte  !  Dubotte, 
you  produce  the  same  effect  upon  me  as  the  sun, 
upon  my  honor  !  I  can't  look  at  you  without 
squinting.  But  you  are  not  the  only  one  here  ! 
Good-day,  messieurs;  you  see,  I  haven't  forgotten 
the  appointment  we  made  five  years  ago.  That 
surprises  you,  doesn't  it?  Well,  upon  my  word  of 
honor,  it  astonishes  me  also !  Ah,  here  is  Lucien, 
that  good  Lucien,  whom  I  haven't  seen,  I  think, 
since  our  last  meeting.  Give  me  your  hand, 
Lucien. 

That  hand,  that  pretty  hand." 

"  By  Jove  !  is  he  going  to  sing  again  ?  If  he  is, 
I  am  off." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        n 

"  No,  PhcEbus,  no,  don't  be  afraid;  I  won't  sing 
any  more, —  not  to  please  you,  but  because  I  want 
to  talk  with  Adhemar  and  Lucien.  Ah,  Adhemar ! 
he's  a  friend  indeed,  I  am  glad  to  say  ;  he  always 
rises  to  the  occasion.  But  Dubotte,  he  always  scents 
it  when  anyone  wants  to  ask  a  service  of  him,  and 
then  he's  off  like  a  stag.  I  said  stag,  but  the  com- 
parison is  a  little  risky,  perhaps,  seeing  that  our 
friend  is  a  married  man ;  but  so  much  the  worse, 
the  word  slipped  out  and  I  shan't  take  it  back." 

"  Oh,  your  word  doesn't  offend  me,  Dodichet. 
When  one  has  a  wife  like  mine  one  is  above  such 
jokes  as  those." 

"  You  are  satisfied  with  your  wife  ;  so  much  the 
better,  I  am  pleased  to  hear  it.  But  now  tell  me, 
messieurs,  what  will  you  all  take?  I  feel  very 
thirsty  myself." 

"  Well,  ask  for  some  beer.'* 

"  Beer!  oh,  no,  that's  too  common  ;  say  punch, 
rather." 

"  Nobody  takes  punch  before  dinner." 

"  Why  not  ?  there  is  no  such  thing  as  time  for 
brave  fellows  like  us.  Waiter,  some  punch —  rum; 
see  that  it's  carefully  mixed,  tell  them  it's  for  a 
connoisseur.  And  you,  Lucien,  my  dear  fellow  ! 
you'll  take  a  glass  of  punch,  won't  you? — it'll 
warm  you  up  and  set  you  going." 

"  No,  I  thank  you,  I  will  take  nothing — I  don't 
care  about  anything." 

"  Come  now,  by  Jove !   you  must  take  some 


12  ADHfeMAR 

punch  with  us  ;  remember,  it  is  I  who  offer  it  to 
you. 

"  But  I  can  answer  for  it,  it  will  not  be  he  who 
will  pay  for  it,"  said  Adhemar  quite  low. 

However,  the  punch  was  brought  and  each  one 
decided  to  take  some.  Dodichet  immediately 
poured  himself  a  second  glass,  as  he  hummed, — 

I  must  taste  it  again,  to  be  sure  it  is  right. 

But  Adhemar  silenced  him  by  opening  the  con- 
versation. 

"  Messieurs,  all  four  of  us  born  at  Troyes  —  " 

"  The  country  of  sausages,"  remarked  Dodichet. 

"  Ah !  Dodichet  are  you  going  to  interrupt 
Adhemar  ? " 

"  Not  at  all.  I  merely  wished  to  confirm  his 
statement  that  we  were  all  four  natives  of  Troyes. 
Go  on,  Adhemar." 

"  Five  years  ago  we  all  met  together  in  this  same 
cafe  ;  I  was  then  twenty-four  years  of  age.  I  had 
been  in  Paris  for  sometime;  but  Philemon  Dubotte 
had  just  arrived  here,  as  also  Lucien;  Dodichet  had 
then  only  dissipated  in  this  gay  city  the  inheritance 
of  one  of  his  uncles.  We  were  comrades  at  college, 
and  all  four  of  us  finding  ourselves  here,  do  you 
remember  what  we  said  ?  " 

"  Perfectly.  We  each  cried,  *  I  want  to  do  some- 
thing; to  make  a  fortune,  a  position,  and  I  only 
ask  five  years  to  do  it  in.'  " 

"  That's  perfectly  correct !  and  we  settled  then 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        13 

that  we  would  all  four  meet  here  at  the  end  of  five 
years,  in  order  to  learn  if  we  had  all  succeeded,  all 
got  there." 

"  Very  good  !  " 

"  Now,  let  each  one  tell  where  he  is  and  whether 
he  has  arrived  at  the  end  which  he  proposed  to 
himself.     You  begin,  Philemon." 

"  Oh,  yes,  Dubotte  must  begin,  because  he's  the 
eldest.     Go  on,  beauteous  blond." 

"  The  eldest  ?  that's  not  at  all  sure." 

**  Oh,  between  ourselves  there's  no  need  to  cheat 
—  at  college  we  all  knew  each  other's  age." 

"  Yes,  but  we  are  not  at  college  now." 

"  Come,  that's  good,  that  is!    I  should  like  to 

have  that  framed.  Dubotte,  you  are  turned  thirty- 

_    »» 
one. 

"  Turned,  well,  only  just !  for  three  months." 
"  That  makes  you  thirty-one  and  a  quarter  years, 
then." 

"  You,  Dodichet,  are  at  least  twenty-eight." 
"  I  don't  deny  my  age,  twenty-seven  and  a  half 
years.  Adhemar,  twenty-nine,  and  Lucien,  twenty- 
six,  he  is  our  youngest.    That  is  easily  seen,  easily 
understood.     I  move  that  Phoebus  continue." 

"  I  shall  be  happy  to  do  so.  Messieurs,  I  can- 
not complain  of  fortune.  Having  obtained  a  place 
in  the  ministry  of  the  interior,  my  assiduity,  my 
zeal,  my  fine  writing,  caused  me  to  be  promptly 
promoted.  I  did  not  delay  my  marriage;  I  had 
found  a  very  pleasing  young  lady  who  had  a  very 


14  ADHfiMAR 

nice  little  dowry  ;  I  was  presented  to  her,  and  that 
was  enough  for  me ;  she  declared  that  she  would 
be  happy  to  marry  a  man  employed  in  the  Interior 
department,  and  our  marriage  took  place.  I  have 
only  to  congratulate  myself  upon  it ;  my  wife  adores 
me ;  she  sees  only  with  my  eyes.  My  salary  is 
ample,  and  I  can  live  agreeably  ;  I  may  therefore 
say  that  I  have  got  there,  that  my  position  is 
assured ;  but  yet,  no,  messieurs,  I  have  not  yet 
reached  the  limit  of  my  aspiration,  for  I  have  some 
ambition ;  I  should  like  to  be  sub-prefect,  or,  at 
least,  the  head  of  an  office  ;  but  before  long  I  hope 
to  arrive  at  that.     '  Dixi.'  " 

"  That  is  understood.  Now,  Adhemar,  it  is  your 
turn." 

"  Messieurs,  I  will  be  brief;  I  wished  to  be  a 
writer  and  I  have  written  novels,  and  have  em- 
ployed my  pen  for  the  stage,  I  have  produced 
plays  which  have  been  more  successful  than  I  had 
hoped ;  fortune,  in  this  respect,  has  always  shown 
a  favoring  face.  I  have  earned  a  good  deal  of 
money.  But  I  have  not  been  fortunate  in  love ; 
I  have  loved  women  ardently,  and  when  they  said 
they  loved  no  one  but  me,  I  always  believed  them 
until  I  had  proof  to  the  contrary ;  but  this  proof 
came  so  often  as  to  disillusion  me.  I  then  made 
a  study  of  the  ladies,  found  they  were  all  coquettes, 
and  that,  as  a  natural  consequence,  there  was  not 
one  of  them  whose  fidelity  1  could  depend  upon. 
This  rendered  me  for  some  time  a  misanthrope, 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK         15 

or,  rather,  a  woman-hater ;  but  later  on  I  said  to 
myself  that  I  would  take  the  world  as  I  found  it, 
and  content  myself  by  forming  with  women  only 
those  connections  which  had  pleasure  as  their  sole 
end.  Still,  I  feel  that  I  was  made  to  love  truly, 
and  that  I  should  have  been  happy  in  being  so 
loved.  Here  is  where  I  stand  :  I  have  everything 
to  satisfy  my  vanity,  and  I  have  plenty  of  money, 
but  my  heart  is  not  satisfied,  and,  according  to  my 
way  of  thinking,  no  one  has  really  succeeded  who 
is  not  happy." 

"  Very  good  !  "  cried  Dodichet,  "  now  it  is  my 
turn.  Messieurs,  very  different  to  Adhemar,  I  con- 
sider myself  extremely  fortunate,  for  I  pass  my  life 
in  amusing  myself.  However,  I  must  confess  that 
I  have  not  yet  attained  an  assured  position  ;  I  have 
tried  so  many  occupations,  in  a  free  and  easy  way, 
that  they  might  call  me  a  universal  man  !  I  have 
had  situations,  clerkships  ;  but  I  never  stayed  any- 
where, I  don't  know  why  —  that  is  to  say  —  yes, 
I  know  very  well  why.  Carried  away  by  my  love 
of  joking,  I  was  always  looking  to  see  what  good 
trick  I  could  play  next ;  as  a  clerk  in  a  novelty 
store,  I  found  a  way  to  mix  all  the  goods ;  to 
put  on  one  shelf  what  ought  to  be  on  another ; 
then  when  customers  came  no  one  could  find  any- 
thing in  its  place,  they  shouted  and  fumed,  and  I 
just  laughed  like  a  fool.  Then,  as  a  clerk  in  a 
government  office,  I  played  a  practical  joke  on  my 
chief  which  cost  me  my  place  —  some  people  can't 


i6  ADHfiMAR 

see  a  joke.  During  all  these  adventures,  I  must 
confess  that  so  far  from  making  money  I  was  spend- 
ing, little  by  little,  all  I  had  inherited.  But  I  still 
have  some  rich  relations ;  I  am  going  to  settle 
down,  I  have  found  my  true  vocation ;  it  is  the 
theatre.  Yes,  messieurs,  some  day  I  shall  distin- 
guish myself  on  the  stage  ;  I  have  not  yet  arrived 
at  that,  it  is  true,  but  you  will  see  me  there  and  in 
a  year,  here,  in  this  same  cafe,  I  wish  you  all  to 
come  and  compliment  me  on  my  talent  and  my 
success." 

"  So  be  it !  "  said  Adhemar,  "  and  now  it  is  for 
Lucien  to  speak." 

"  I  must  begin,  messieurs,  by  telling  you  that 
I  have  not  been  at  all  successful  —  and  that,  al- 
though I  have  not  amused  myself;  I  have  worked 
—  worked  very  hard  indeed  —  I  have  tried  sev- 
eral little  commercial  ventures,  but  I  have  not  been 
successful  ;  often,  too,  I  have  been  deceived,  ex- 
ploited by  those  who  should  merely  have  been  my 
partners  and  who  kept  all  the  profits  for  them- 
selves. But  I  have  not  yet  lost  courage,  I  have 
just  invented  a  new  kind  of  pin  for  ladies ;  some- 
thing tells  me  it  will  take.  I  must  also  tell  you 
that  I  am  in  love,  and  that  the  father  of  her  I  love 
will  not  give  his  daughter  except  to  a  man  who 
already  has  a  good  establishment." 

"  What,  my  dear  Lucien !  you  are  in  love,  really 
in  love  ?  "  said  Adhemar.  "  Ah,  that  is  what  pre- 
vents you  from  getting  on  !    You  must  never  take 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK         17 

that  feeling  seriously,  or  you  will  be  duped;  it  will 
make  you  sad  and  unhappy  and  every  one  will 
laugh  at  you." 

"  Pardon  me,  Adhemar,  but  I  do  not  think  as 
you  do.  Far  from  love  rendering  me  unhappy,  it 
is  my  only  consolation,  my  only  hope;  it  sustains 
me  in  adversity,  for  I  am  loved  by  her  whom  I 
love,  and  a  word,  a  smile  from  her  will  make  me 
forget  the  weariness  of  a  whole  week !  " 

"  Why  look  you,  the  fellow  is  loved,"  said  Phile- 
mon, "  he  has  vanquished  the  young  girl's  heart, 
in  spite  of  her  father's  beard ;  I  know  how  that  is 
myself." 

"  Lucien,  do  you  want  me  to  abduct  your  sweet- 
heart ?  to  play  a  good  trick  on  the  papa  ?  You 
needn't  bother  yourself  about  it.  I'm  quite  at  your 
service." 

"  No,  Dodichet,  thanks ;  she  whom  I  love  is 
not  one  of  those  young  ladies  who  allow  them- 
selves to  be  abducted ;  she  is  virtuous,  well  brought 
up.  She  will  give  herself  only  to  her  husband,  and 
if  she  were  otherwise  I  should  not  love  her." 

"  Very  good !  but  what  is  this  barbarous  father 
who  will  not  approve  his  daughter's  choice  ? " 

"  Oh,  he  is  a  miser,  a  human  crab ;  a  man  who 
esteems  nothing  but  money.  You  will  understand 
by  that,  that  he  won't  give  his  daughter  a  dowry ; 
on  the  contrary  he  would  rather  exact  one  from  his 
son-in-law." 

"  And  what  is  this  grab-all's  occupation." 

Vol.  XXIV 


i8  ADHEMAR 

"  He  has  none,  according  to  what  he  says;  but, 
between  ourselves,  I  think  he  lends  money  at  usury ; 
lends  it  for  a  short  time,  and  at  a  high  rate  of 
interest.  He's  rich,  but  he's  always  complaining  of 
the  hardness  of  the  times ;  unfortunately  for  him- 
self he  is  married  for  the  second  time  to  a  woman 
much  younger  than  himself  and  who  must  have 
brought  him  money  ;  he  would  not  have  married 
her  without  that.  But  this  lady  sometimes  wishes 
to  have  some  relaxation,  to  receive  company;  and 
that  throws  M.  Mirotaine  into  despair,  for  he  wants 
to  suppress  all  expense." 

"  Mirotaine,  did  you  say,  Lucien?  Why  I  know 
him.  Yes,  Mirotaine,  a  former  tip-staff,  who  Hves 
now  in  the  Rue  Saint-Louis,  in  the  Marais." 

"  The  same !  so  you  know  this  gentlemen ! 
Well,  Philemon,  do  you  think  I  have  overdrawn 
his  portrait  ? " 

"  No,  not  at  all,  he's  a  skinflint  of  the  first  quality. 
He  invited  me  to  go  to  his  parties,  but  I  learned 
that  he  offered  for  refreshments  in  summer  time  — 
liquorice  water !  " 

"  Oh,  that's  delightful ;  and  in  winter  ?  " 

"  Ah,  that  was  worse  still ;  in  winter  he  gave  hot 
liquorice  water.  You  may  imagine  that  was  not 
very  enticing  to  me,  so  I  did  not  go  to  his  parties." 

"  Cold  liquorice  water  and  hot  liquorice  water! " 
cried  Dodichet;  "it  is  unbelievable  ;  does  this  man 
deal  in  liquorice  wood  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  pity,  for  his  second  wife  isn't  half  a  bad 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK         19 

sort ;  I  would  willingly  have  paid  court  to  her,  but 
I  lacked  courage  to  face  the  liquorice  water." 

"  And  his  daughter  Juliette,  is  she  not  charm- 
ing? 

"  I  don't  know,  for  I  have  never  seen  her." 

"  Her  stepmother  greatly  desires  to  marry  her. 
As  she  is  very  coquettish,  I  think  she  is  jealous  of 
her  stepdaughter's  beauty ;  she  is  looking  for  hus- 
bands everywhere;  I  know  for  a  fact  that  she  has 
even  applied  to  a  dealer  in  toilet  articles  who  ar- 
ranges marriages." 

"  What,  do  you  mean  to  say  that  dealers  in  com- 
modities of  the  toilet  make  marriages  ?  " 

"  A  good  many,  my  dear  Dodichet ;  a  good 
many !  You  can  understand  that  it  benefits  them  ; 
they  stipulate  in  their  conditions  that  it  is  they  who 
shall  furnish  the  presents  which  the  future  husband 
makes  to  his  bride.  If  the  future  husband  has  no 
money  to  buy  the  wedding  basket,  they  agree  to 
make  it  on  credit,  quite  certain  that  it  will  be  paid 
for  when  the  bridegroom  receives  the  dowry." 

"  Why,  that  isn't  half  stupid,  after  all ;  I  have 
a  great  mind  to  set  to  work  and  make  some  mar- 
riages myself.  Do  you  know  the  name  of  this 
Hymen's  go-between  ?" 

"  Madame  Putiphar." 

"  The  devil !  that's  a  promising  name.  I  must 
tell  her  to  find  me  a  millionnaire,  and  I  will  share 
the  dowry  with  her.  At  any  rate  your  M .  Miroton — 
Mirotaine  is  an  ugly  crow  —  he  smells  of  onions. 


ao  ADHEMAR 

I'll  wager;  I  really  must  play  him  some  good 
trick." 

"Dodichet,  I  beg  of  you  don't  do  anything  that 
will  compromise  Juliette,  or  that  will  not  advance 
my  business." 

"  Your  business  !  and  you  flatter  yourself,  Lu- 
cien,  that  your  pins  will  give  you  the  means  of 
marrying  this  damsel  ?  " 

"  If  I  make  money  by  them,  yes  ;  but  it  will 
be  long  first  and,  meanwhile,  the  dealer  in  toilet 
articles  will  find  some  one  who  will  be  enticed  by 
Juliette's  attractions  to  consent  to  marry  her  with- 
out a  dowry." 

"  Poor  Lucien,  give  me  your  address,  I  shall  go 
and  look  at  your  pins  ;  I'll  try  to  puff  them." 

"  My  lodging  is  a  very  modest  one ;  I  live  on 
the  sixth  floor  in  the  Rue  Jemmapes,  opposite  the 
bridge  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  du  Temple." 

"  Well,  messieurs,  I  see  we  must  part  without 
any  one  of  us  being  able  to  boast  that  he  has  at- 
tained the  end  he  had  proposed  to  himself." 

"  Messieurs,  I  demand  a  respite  of  one  year.  In 
one  year  I  shall  make  my  way  at  the  theatre  !  I 
shall  have  got  there  !  " 

"And  I,"  said  Lucien,  "in  another  twelve 
months  shall  perhaps  have  succeeded  in  my  enter- 
prises.    I  shall  have  established  a  little  business." 

"  I  shall  either  be  sub-prefect  or  head  of  a  de- 
partment." 

"So  be  it,  messieurs,"  said  Adhemar,"  the  respite 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK         21 

of  one  year  is  accorded ;  as  for  me,  I  don't  think 
my  position  will  be  changed  in  any  wise." 

Philemon  rose  and  left  the  table,  saying, — 

"  Messieurs,  you  are  very  kind,  but  my  wife  is 
expecting  me  to  dinner,  and  if  I  stay  any  longer, 
I  shall  find  her  weeping  into  her  soup.  Good-by, 
till  I  see  you  again,  and  may  the  fates  be  propi- 
tious to  you." 

The  handsome  fair  man  departed. 

"  He's  taken  himself  off  without  paying,"  said 
Dodichet,  "  our  friend  does  not  stand  on  cere- 
mony." 

"  He  must  have  forgotten,"  said  Lucien,  "  but 
we  three  will  pay  for  all." 

"  Oh,  confound  it;  I  perceive  I  have  forgotten 
my  purse,"  said  Dodichet,  feeling  in  all  his  pockets. 

Adhemar  smiled  and  hastened  to  pay  the  waiter, 
saying, — 

"  Messieurs,  permit  me  to  be  your  host,  which 
will  afford  me  great  pleasure.  My  dear  Lucien, 
you  know  my  address,  pray  come  and  see  me 
sometimes." 

"Thank  you,  my  dear  Adhemar,  I  shall  remem- 
ber your  kind  invitation.     Good-by,  Dodichet." 

Lucien  Grischard  also  departed. 

"  He  is  proud,"  said  Adhemar,  as  he  left  the 
cafe  with  Dodichet,  "  he  won't  come  to  see  me 
because  he  is  poor,  and  he  does  not  wish  that  any 
one  should  do  him  a  service." 

"Well,  he  is  wrong  there;  thank  Providence! 


22  ADHEMAR 

I  am  not  like  that,"  cried  Dodichet,  "  one  mustn't 
be  proud  with  one's  friends.  So  I  am  not  afraid, 
Adhemar,  to  say  to  you,  *  I  have  forgotten  my 
purse,  lend  me  a  hundred  sous,  I  will  return  them 
at  the  earliest  opportunity.'  " 

"  My  dear  Dodichet,  I  like  to  oblige  my  friends 
very  much;  but  you  abuse  my  willingness.  Several 
times  I  have  lent  you  hundred  sous  pieces,  that 
you  were  always  going  to  pay  me  back,  and  you 
haven't  paid  me  yet  a  single  one." 

"  Well,  now  listen,  lend  me  two  hundred  sous, 
and  I  will  pay  you  back  a  hundred  sous  right  on 
the  spot." 

Adhemar  could  not  refrain  from  laughing,  and, 
urged  by  this  characteristic  speech,  again  lent 
Dodichet  a  hundred  sous. 


CHAPTER    II 
A  Burning  Gown 

Let  us  leave  Philemon  Dubotte  to  return  to 
his  wife,  making  soft  eyes  at  all  the  pretty  women 
he  meets  on  his  way ;  let  us  leave  Lucien  Grischard 
to  dream  of  a  way  of  making  money  without 
departing  from  the  paths  of  honor;  let  us  leave 
M.  Fanfan  Dodichet  seeking  what  trick  he  can 
play  M.  Mirotaine,  who  regales  his  guests  with 
liquorice  water  —  and  let  us  follow  Adhemar,  who 
has  no  other  plan  in  his  head  than  the  plot  of  a 
comedy  that  he  is  working  out. 

Our  author  walked  rather  slowly  along  the  boule- 
vard, taking  little  notice  of  the  passers-by ;  but  sud- 
denly he  ran,  or,  rather,  he  flew  towards  a  lady  who 
was  half  a  dozen  steps  in  front  of  him,  and  whose 
gown  had  just  burst  into  a  flame  on  coming  in  con- 
tact with  a  burning  match  which  one  of  those  gen- 
tlemen who  have  the  noble  habit  of  smoking  as 
they  walk  had  thrown  down,  after  lighting  his  cigar 
or  pipe,  without  taking  the  trouble  to  step  on  it  and 
extinguish  it  altogether;  which  would,  at  least,  pro- 
tect ladies  from  accidents  which  sometimes  prove 
very  dangerous ;  but  what  does  it  matter  to  a  smoker 
that  a  dress  burns  and  that  a  lady  burns  alsoj'  he 

as 


24  ADHEMAR 

smokes  on  and  all  is  for  the  best.  Well  may  we 
say,  "O  tempora  !  O  mores  !" 

The  lady  had  a  gown  of  light  stuff,  the  fire  was 
rapidly  reaching  her  bodice,  and  she  had  not  yet 
perceived  that  she  was  burning,  when  she  felt  her- 
self suddenly  seized  by  two  vigorous  arms,  which 
stifled  and  arrested  the  flames  at  the  risk  of  burn- 
ing themselves.  The  lady  uttered  an  exclamation, 
and  demanded  of  the  person  who  was  extinguish- 
ing her  by  what  right  he  put  his  arms  around  her 
in  that  fashion.  Adhemar's  only  answer  was  to 
show  the  lady  her  dress,  of  which  the  whole  side 
was  burned. 

"  Good  heavens  !  monsieur,  I  understand  now. 
Pardon  me.     I  was  burning,  then  ?  " 

**  Yes,  madame,  your  gown  had  touched  a  lighted 
match;  fortunately  I  happened  to  be  near  you;  and 
I,  who  am  not  apt  to  see  what  is  going  on  around 
me,  discovered  the  flame  as  it  was  making  rapid 
progress  —  and  I  hastened  to  help  you  without 
thinking  of  asking  your  permission;  1  don't  think 
you  will  bear  me  any  grudge  for  that." 

"  I  can  only  thank  you,  monsieur.  But  you 
have  burned  yourself!" 

"  SHghtly,  on  the  left  hand  —  it's  a  very  small 
matter!" 

However  the  idle  and  curious  people,  who  always 
come  running  when  the  danger  is  all  over,  began 
to  gather  around  the  lady  and  Adhemar. 

"  What  is  the  matter  here  ?  '* 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        25 

"What  is  it?" 

"A  lady  on  fire." 

"  They  must  throw  water  on  her." 

"She  is  put  out.  It  is  only  her  gown  that's  a 
little  scorched." 

"  She  can  buy  another." 

"And  the  gentleman  there  —  beside  her?" 

"  He  must  have  set  her  afire  with  his  cigar." 

"Then  he  ought  to  be  arrested  —  taken  to  the 
station." 

"Why,  no ;  it  was  he  who  extinguished  the  lady's 
gown ;  and  he's  given  himself  a  nice  burn  on  the 
left  fist." 

"  Hang  it,  if  he  plays  the  violin  that'll  put  him 
out. 

The  hero  of  the  adventure  hastened  to  make  his 
way  through  the  crowd  and  to  enter  a  chemist's 
shop,  which  he  fortunately  found  a  few  steps  off. 

The  lady  seated  herself  and  asked  for  a  glass  of 
orange-flower  water  to  restore  her  after  the  shock 
she  had  experienced.  Adhemar  showed  his  burned 
hand  to  the  pharmacist,  who  bathed  it  first  with 
goulard  water  and  then  applied  something  to  it 
that  would  promptly  cure  the  hurt.  But  he  would 
have  to  have  his  hand  bound  and  carry  his  arm  in 
a  sling  for  some  time,  for  the  burn  was  quite  large. 

While  all  this  was  being  done,  our  two  person- 
ages had  time  to  look  at  each  other,  and,  as  was 
quite  natural,  tried  to  find  out  with  whom  they  had 
to  do.     The  person  who  had  so  narrowly  escaped 


26  ADHEMAR 

being  burned  was  a  lady  of  twenty-five  years,  tall, 
slight,  and  well-built ;  her  face,  naturally  serious, 
became  agreeable  when  she  smiled;  her  black  eyes 
were  fine  and  very  expressive,  two  thin  but  per- 
fectly arched  eyebrows  surmounted  them;  her  hair 
was  black ;  her  nose,  shaped  like  Niobe's,  was  rather 
prominent ;  altogether  the  lady  was  very  good- 
looking,  her  dress  was  elegant,  and  her  manners 
those  of  a  person  of  quahty. 

Adhemar  had  seen  all  this  while  they  were  band- 
aging his  arm,  and  on  her  part  the  lady  had  ex- 
amined the  person  who  had  done  her  so  eminent 
a  service  ;  as  we  know,  this  examination  could  not 
be  to  his  disadvantage. 

"  Really,  monsieur,  I  am  exceeding  distressed. 
You  have  quite  a  bad  burn  !  "  resumed  the  lady 
while  they  were  wrapping  Adhemar's  hand. 

"  Oh,  no,  madame,  it  will  be  quickly  healed." 

"Yes,"  said  the  chemist,  "it  will  heal  quickly, 
but  it  is  probable  that  you  will  always  bear  the 
mark  of  the  burn." 

"  Well,  it  will  be  an  honorable  scar.  Remem- 
ber, madame,  that  you  might  have  been  seriously 
burned ;  what  is  this,  beside  the  danger  that  threat- 
ened you  ? " 

The  lady  answered  nothing,  but  she  looked  at 
her  gown  and  cried, — 

"  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  go  out  like  this,  all 
the  bottom  of  my  dress  is  burned.  Is  there  no 
way  of  getting  a  carriage  ^  " 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        27 

"  Pardon  me,  madame,"  said  the  chemist,  "  I 
will  send  somebody  to  get  one  for  you." 

"  I  shall  be  greatly  obliged  to  you,  monsieur." 

Adhemar,  whose  hand  was  now  completely 
dressed,  seemed  to  hesitate  as  to  what  he  should 
do  ;  finally,  he  bowed  to  the  lady  and  said, — 

"  As  you  have  no  further  need  of  my  services, 
madame,  I  will  take  my  leave  of  you." 

The  lady  colored  slightly,  but  she  stopped 
Adhemar,  saying, — 

"  Monsieur,  pardon  me  for  detaining  you  fur- 
ther, but  I  should  very  much  like  to  know  the 
name  of  the  person  to  whom  I  am  indebted,  who 
has  sustained  injury  on  my  behalf.  Good  heavens  ! 
perhaps  I  am  indiscreet  —  if  so,  pray  excuse  me." 

"  There  is  nothing  indiscreet  in  your  request, 
madame ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  very  flattering  to 
me." 

As  he  spoke,  Adhemar  took  from  his  pocket  a 
card,  which  he  presented  to  the  lady.  The  latter 
took  it,  hastily  glanced  at  it,  and  an  expression  of 
satisfaction  gleamed  on  her  features.  Then  she 
raised  her  eyes  to  Adhemar,  and  smiled,  as  she 
said  to  him, — 

"  I  know  you  already  by  name  and  reputation, 
monsieur.  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the 
greater  part  of  your  plays,  and  I  congratulate  my- 
self on  now  being  able  to  say  to  the  author  of 
them  how  many  agreeable  moments  I  have  passed, 
thanks  to  his  talent." 


28  ADHEMAR 

Adhemar  could  not  master  a  feeling  of  pride 
which  was  depicted  on  his  face.  Where  is  the 
author,  the  poet,  the  novelist  who  can  be  quite 
impervious  to  praise,  above  all  when  it  comes  from 
a  witty  mouth  and  is  spoken  gracefully  ?  From 
the  lips  of  a  fool  a  compliment  produces  the  same 
effect  as  the  utterance  of  the  most  utter  foolishness. 

"  I  am  extremely  fortunate,  madame,"  said  Ad- 
hemar, "  if  my  works  have  interested  you  ;  your 
praises  make  me  almost  proud  of  my  success.  You 
are  fond  of  the  theatre,  madame  ?  " 

"  Very  fond,  monsieur." 

"  Do  you  go  there  often  ? " 

"Why,  as  often  as  a  lonely  woman  may,  for 
whom  it  is  necessary  that  she  should  find  a  friend 
disposed  to  accompany  her,  for  a  lady  cannot  ven- 
ture alone  to  the  theatre,  it  is  neither  amusing  nor 
conventional." 

"  Ah,  you  are,  madame  —  you  have  not —  " 

"  I  am  a  widow,  monsieur." 

"  That  is  what  I  was  endeavoring  to  say,  ma- 
dame. Pardon  me  —  for  now  I  am  going  to  be 
indiscreet,  but  I  shall  be  very  happy  to  know — " 

"  For  whom  you  exposed  yourself  to  be  burned, 
and  if  at  least  the  person  was  worth  the  trouble — " 

"  Oh,  madame,  pray  do  not  imagine  that  I  meant 
to  say  anything  of  that  kind.  In  the  first  place, 
as  I  take  it,  any  person  in  danger  is  worthy  of  help, 
whatever  his  appearance  or  position.  But  I  cannot 
but  be  flattered  at  having  this  adventure  which 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK         29 

has  brought  me  in  contact  with  you.  And,  as  I  see 
that  my  question  has  been  indiscreet,  I  will  with- 
draw it." 

"  And  I,  on  the  contrary,  monsieur,  think  that 
you  ought  to  know  the  person  you  so  generously 
succored  ;  it  pleases  me  to  think  that  you  will  not 
regret  it." 

"  To  see  you,  to  talk  with  you  is  sufficient  to 
give  one  the  most  favorable  opinion." 

"  Oh,  monsieur,  you  know  one  must  not  trust 
to  appearances.  In  Paris,  of  all  places,  one  is  very 
easily  deceived.    Take  it !  take  it,  I  beg  of  you  — " 

The  lady  had  drawn  from  a  very  pretty  diary  a 
card  which  she  handed  to  Adhemar ;  thus  urged, 
the  latter  took  it,  and  put  it  into  his  pocket,  with- 
out even  glancing  at  it. 

They  came  to  inform  the  lady  that  a  carriage 
awaited  her.  She  thanked  them,  and  was  about 
to  go,  having  bowed  to  Adhemar,  but  the  latter 
offered  his  hand  to  her  as  he  said, — 

"  Will  you  not  allow  me,  madame,  to  see  you 
to  your  carriage  ?  " 

"  Very  willingly,  monsieur." 

They  left  the  pharmacy,  the  lady  lightly  passing 
her  arm  under  her  escort's, because  during  the  day- 
time, in  the  open  boulevard,  a  gentleman  who  led 
a  lady  by  the  hand  would  make  all  the  loiterers 
turn  and  stop  to  look  at  him  ;  it  does  not  take 
much  to  attract  the  attention  and  arouse  the  curi- 
osity of  the  Parisians,  who  are  excessively  idle  and 


30 


ADHEMAR 


snatch  every  occasion  to  lose  their  time.  But  they 
had  reached  the  carriage  ;  the  lady  got  in,  then  she 
said  to  Adhemar, — 

"  Monsieur,  will  you  allow  me  to  take  you  home, 
or  anywhere  else  you  wish  ?  " 

"  You  are  a  thousand  times  too  good,  madame, 
but  I  really  cannot  give  you  so  much  trouble." 

The  lady  bowed  low  to  Adhemar  and  said  to  the 
coachman,  "Rue  de  Paradis-Poissonniere,  40." 

The  carriage  started,  and  Adhemar  watched  it 
as  it  went  off,  saying  to  himself, — 

"Ah,  let's  see  what  her  name  is !  As  to  her  address 
I  caught  that  when  she  gave  it  to  the  coachman." 

He  drew  the  card  from  his  pocket,  and  read  it, — 

"Nathalie  Dermont  —  that  is  all  and  there  is 
no  *  widow'  on  the  card  ;  and  why  not  ?  Well,  after 
all,  if  her  husband  has  been  dead  for  any  length  of 
time,  there  is  no  reason  why  she  should  constantly 
entitle  herself  a  widow.  She's  very  good-looking, 
nor  does  she  look  stupid,  and  that,  after  all,  is  what 
one  should  most  be  on  his  guard  against,  for  a 
stupid  woman  is  dreadfully  tiresome.  Well,  at  any 
rate,  I  haven't  lost  my  day  1  '* 


CHAPTER  III 
A  Dealer  in  Toilet  Articles 

DoDiCHET  had  for  the  time  being  as  his  mistress 
—  or  rather  as  a  companion  in  pleasure,  having  no 
money,  except  by  some  occasional  stroke  of  luck, 
he  but  rarely  permitted  himself  the  luxury  of  a 
mistress ;  well,  he  had,  in  fact,  as  his  intimate  ac- 
quaintance, a  young  dancer  at  one  of  the  smaller 
theatres,  who  was  ever  ready  to  accept  from  him  a 
dinner  or  a  supper  when  he  was  sufficiently  flush 
to  invite  her. 

Dodichet  betook  himself  to  the  abode  of  this 
artist  in  capers,  who  was  named  Boulotte,  and  lived 
on  a  fifth  floor  in  the  Faubourg  du  Temple.  Ma- 
demoiselle Boulotte,  who  was  in  the  act  of  manu- 
facturing some  new  mineral  rouge  with  some  bricks 
which  she  was  pulverizing  into  flour,  uttered  an 
exclamation  of  joy  when  she  saw  Dodichet  and  said 
to  him, — 

"You  came  to  get  me  to  go  to  dinner  at  a  res- 
taurant !  That's  good,  that  is ;  for  I've  had  noth- 
ing to  eat  today  but  a  sausage,  and  that  is  too 
light." 

"  No,  Boulotte,  no,  dear  angel  of  my  dreams  — 
when  they  are  golden  —  I  did  not  come  to  off^er 


32  ADHEMAR 

you  a  dinner,  because  the  water  is  low  and  I  should 
not  like  to  take  a  woman  like  you  into  a  low  cook- 
shop." 

"  Oh,  that  would  be  all  the  same  to  me.  There 
are  some  cookshops  where  they  make  very  fair 
rabbit  stew.  But,  at  any  rate,  if  you  have  no  money 
I  can  offer  you  part  of  my  black  radish  and  some 
fried  potatoes  that  I  am  going  to  buy." 

"  You  are  first-rate,  you're  a  jolly  good  girl ;  you 
would  share  all  you  possess  with  a  friend.  You 
have  nothing  very  great,  to  be  sure,  but  there  is 
all  the  more  merit  in  your  offering  a  part  of  it. 
Thank  you,  my  dear,  but  I  cannot  accept  your 
little  feast,  I  am  looking  for  an  individual.  I  saw 
him  two  days  ago,  and  when  he  caught  sight  of  me 
he  slunk  off  like  a  thief;  I  could  not  catch  him 
then,  but  I  shall  catch  him." 

"  Is  it  a  man  who  owes  you  money  ?  " 

"  No,  he  doesn't  owe  me  any,  but,  all  the  same, 
he  will  have  to  give  me  some.  Oh,  I  shall  screw 
something  out  of  him,  and  without  remorse,  for 
he  is  rich.  Then  I'll  offer  you  a  blow-out  with 
plenty  of  truffles  and  champagne." 

"  And  why  should  this  man  give  you  money  ?  " 

"  Because  I  am  possessed  of  a  secret  of  his." 

"  What  secret  ?  " 

"  If  I  were  to  tell  you,  it  wouldn't  be  a  secret 
any  longer." 

"  Do  you  think  me  so  much  of  a  gossip,  then  ?  " 

*'  My  little  Boulotte,  when  I  possess  a  secret, 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK         ^3 

and  one  that  is  as  good  to  me  as  the  goose  with 
the  golden  eggs,  I  should  be  very  foolish  if  I  were 
to  divulge  it.  But  let's  drop  the  subject ;  it  was 
not  about  that  that  I  came  here.  Boulotte,  you 
must  render  me  a  service." 

"  One,  two,  three  !  go  on,  don't  be  bashful ;  for 

I  am  quite  sure  that  you  will  not  borrow  any  money 

f>> 
me. 

"  What  do  you  take  me  for  ?  Boulotte,  you 
must  know  some  dealers  in  toilet  articles." 

"  Yes,  I  know  several  of  them  —  but  rather 
seedy  ones.     Do  you  want  to  buy  me  a  shawl  ?  " 

"  Fie  for  shame !  Do  you  know  a  dealer  in  toilet 
articles  named  Madame  Putiphar  ?  " 

"  Madame  Putiphar !  no,  I  don't  know  her.  Do 
you  need  to  make  her  acquaintance  ? " 

"  Yes,  and  I  had  counted  on  you  to  find  her  for 
me. 

"  Oh,  that's  easy  enough.  I  shall  ask  Sara  and 
Clara  and  Cora,  they  know  so  many  people,  and 
within  two  days  I'll  give  you  some  information 
about  your  tradeswoman." 

"  Very  good  !  To  help  you  in  your  researches 
you  may  say  that  it  is  the  one  who  arranges  mar- 
riages." 

"  Fine  information  !  they  all  do  that !  " 

"  Really  !  I  believe  they  undermine  them  as 
well.  No  matter,  do  my  commission;  now  I'll 
leave  you  to  your  black  radish  and  fried  potatoes, 
but  don't  eat  too  much  of  them  —  you  will  see 

Vol.  XXIV 


34  ADHfiMAR 

me  again  in  three  days,  and  if  I  can  get  hold  of 
my  man  it  won't  be  a  rabbit  stew,  but  a  salmi  of 
partridges  stuffed  with  truffles  that  I  shall  offer 
you. 

Dodichet  left  Mademoiselle  Boulotte;  but  three 
days  later  he  returned  to  her  domicile  and  found 
her  again  making  mineral  rouge,  for  which  she 
shortly  hoped  to  obtain  a  patent.  Dodichet  was 
radiant,  he  came  in  polkaing,  waltzing,  and  began 
by  taking  the  dancer  in  his  arms  and  waltzing  her 
about,  without  giving  her  time  to  get  rid  of  her 
brick  and  her  hammer,  so  that  Boulotte  screamed, — 

"  Let  me  go  —  let  me  put  down  my  brick,  at 
least." 

"  Boulotte,  the  waltz  in  the  *  Auberge  des  Ad- 
rets,* —  you  know,  the  one  that  Frederick  danced 
so  well  in  his  picturesque  costume  as  Robert  Macaire 
—  I've  stolen  a  bit  of  that  waltz." 

"  Let  me  put  my  brick  down.  That's  right ! 
there  it  is,  on  the  floor  now,  and  broken  !  " 

"  Oh,  well,  as  you  were  going  to  break  it  with 
the  hammer,  that  will  save  you  the  trouble." 

"  It's  not  the  same  thing  at  all ;  I  shall  lose  half 
of  it  on  the  ground.  What  has  happened  to  you 
today  to  make  you  so  cheerful  ? " 

"Why,  by  Jove!  I've  found  my  man  —  my 
Sicilian." 

"  What  the  man  of  the  secret  I  * 

"  Precisely." 

**  And  is  he  a  Sicilian  ?  " 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK         35 

"  Yes,  a  Sicilian  from  Pontoise.  Ah,  what  an 
unlucky  slip  !  what  have  I  said  now  ?  Boulotte, 
I  beg  of  you  don't  repeat  that  word !  If  you  should 
ever  see  me  with  a  gentlemen  you  don't  know, 
don't  let  the  word  Pontoise  out  of  your  mouth,  or 
all  will  be  ended  betwixt  us." 

"  Why,  what  rigmarole  are  you  telling  me  now  ? 
you  look  as  if  you  were  cracked !  " 

"  Let  us  drop  it.  Have  you  done  my  commis- 
sion  r 

"Yes,  monsieur,  I  have  done  your  commission. 
I  was  quite  sure  that  Rosa,  who  knows  all  the 
dealers  in  toilet  articles  in  Paris,  would  know  that 
one  —  she  has  lately  sold  her  a  steel  comb,  which 
she  owned  through  the  generosity  of  an  English- 
man, of  which  she  had  broken  two  teeth." 

"Of  the  Englishman?" 

"  No,  of  the  comb." 

"  All  right.  Rosa  is  one  of  your  mates  at  the 
theatre,  isn't  she?  a  brunette  with  yellow  eyes,  and 
a  skin  like  her  eyes." 

"  Yes,  but  the  question  doesn't  concern  her;  you 
promised  me  a  salmi  of  partridges  if  you  found 
your  man  with  the  secret.  You  see,  I  didn't  say 
*  of  Pontoise.' " 

"  Hush  !  don't  be  so  imprudent ;  and  in  speak- 
ing of  Rosa,  I  was  just  coming  to  the  salmi.  Our 
feast  must  take  place  at  her  house,  the  day  after 
tomorrow  at  mid-day,  that  she  may  have  time  to 
tell  Putiphar  that  she  will  expect  her  on  that  day 


36  ADHEMAR 

towards  one  o'clock ;  you  understand,  I  will  be 

there,  and  I  shall  have  taught  you  and  Rosa  what 

you  will  have  to  say  to  make  my  plan  successful." 

"  Is  it  a  joke  that  you  are  going  to  play  on  some 
>> 
one. 

"  Of  course  !  " 

"  Well,  make  your  mind  easy,  we  will  say  all  the 
stupid  things  you  like  !  " 

"  I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  of  that.  Then 
it  is  quite  understood, — the  day  after  tomorrow  at 
Rosa's.     Is  she  still  in  the  Rue  de  Lancry  ? " 

"  Still  there." 

"  I  promise  you  a  breakfast  with  swallow's  nests, 
like  the  Chinese." 

"  No,  I  shouldn't  like  that.  The  idea  of  eating 
bird's  nests  1  how  horrid  !  " 

"  Then  we  will  transform  them  into  charlotte 
russes." 

"  Good  enough  !  You  must  order  the  breakfast 
at  Le  Comte's,  at  the  corner  of  the  street  and  the 
boulevard  ;  he's  an  excellent  caterer." 

"  Don't  you  bother  yourself,  I  know  the  good 
places  ! " 

Mademoiselle  Rosa,  Boulotte's  companion,  lived 
in  a  small  apartment  on  a  fourth  floor  in  the  Rue 
de  Lancry;  her  home  was  tastefully  furnished;  for 
although  she  had  yellow  skin  and  eyes,  she  was 
always  kept  much  better  than  several  of  her  com- 
panions, who,  however,  were  much  prettier  than 
she.     Why  that  was  I  cannot  tell  you. 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        37 

Upon  the  day  appointed,  at  half-past  twelve  in 
the  middle  of  the  day,  Dodichet  was  sitting  at  a 
table  between  Boulotte  and  Rosa,  in  a  small  dining- 
room  in  the  latter  young  lady's  apartment.  The 
table  was  covered  with  dishes,  which  they  had  al- 
ready ravenously  attacked,  and  with  bottles  adorned 
with  various  labels  and  containing  wine  of  divers 
colors.  The  company  was  very  cheerful,  they 
laughed  as  they  ate,  and  drank  as  they  laughed. 

"  Mesdemoiselles,"  said  Dodichet,  as  he  un- 
corked a  bottle  of  champagne,  "  I  am  going  to  tell 
you  something  funny —  a  joke  ;  in  fact  the  trick  I 
wish  to  play.    You  have  promised  to  second  me." 

"  We  promise  again  !  " 

"  I  swear  by  my  lover's  hair !  "  said  Rosa. 

"  The  devil  you  do  !  but  it  occurs  to  me  that 
your  lover  is  bald.  But  no  matter  ;  you  know  what 
you  have  to  say  when  Madame  Putiphar  comes  ?" 

"  Oh,  we  know  our  parts ;  you  shall  have  no 
fault  to  find  with  us." 

"  But  she  doesn't  come,  this  dealer  in  toilet  ar- 
ticles ;  suppose  she  were  to  play  us  false  ?  " 

"  No  danger ;  I  told  her  I  wanted  a  brooch." 

"  What  for  —  to  put  in  your  bonnet?  " 

"  Why,  no,  to  fasten  my  belt.  Wait,  someone 
is  ringing;  I'll  wager  it  is  she." 

In  fact  the  maid  presently  came  to  say  to  Rosa, — 

"  Madame  Putiphar  is  here." 

"  Well,  ask  her  to  come  in  —  she  won't  prevent 
us  from  eating." 


38  ADH£MAR 

Almost  immediately  a  small  but  enormously 
stout  woman  appeared,  who  must  have  been  between 
forty  and  fifty  years  of  age.  She  had  been  a  strik- 
ing brunette,  but  she  was  more  than  a  brunette  now; 
she  was  almost  black,  for  her  hair,  the  thick  bands 
of  which  almost  covered  her  cheeks,  was  so  bril- 
liantly black  that  at  the  first  glance,  and  contrasted 
with  her  face,  which  was  red  and  pimpled,  her  head 
had  the  appearance  of  being  varnished.  The 
woman  was  well-dressed,  too  well-dressed  it  would 
seem,  for  she  had  shawls,  a  big  one  and  a  little  one 
on  top  of  it,  a  collarette  showing,  and  a  cravat  tied 
in  a  shepherd's  bow  behind,  then  she  had  a  lot  of 
tinsel  on  her  bonnet ;  and  in  addition  to  this  held 
a  flat  cardboard  box  under  her  arm,  which  made 
Dodichet  say  to  himself, — 

"This  woman  must  surely  carry  a  portion  of  her 
stock-in-trade  on  her  person." 

"  Good-day,  Putiphar  !  " 

"  How  do  you  do,  Madame  Putiphar  !  " 

"  Sit  you  down  there,  Putiphar ;  when  I  wrote 
to  you  I  did  not  know  that  M.  Dodichet,  a  sugar- 
broker,  would  offer  this  morning,  to  Boulotte  and 
me,  this  impromptu  meal  with  champagne  and 
truffles.  But  that's  all  the  same,  you  are  not  in  a 
hurry?" 

To  all  this  the  fat  lady  responded  with  a  great 
many  bows,  accompanied  by  affectionate  glances 
at  the  table,  as  she  murmured, — 

"  Oh,  mesdames,  don't  let  me  disturb  you  at  ail. 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK         39 

It  all  smells  very  good  here.  I  am  not  in  the  slight- 
est hurry,  I  shall  watch  you  eating." 

"  And  you  will  take  a  glass  of  champagne  with 
us,  madame  ? " 

"Why,  you  are  very  obliging,  monsieur — " 

"  Take  it,  Putiphar,  take  it !  a  glass  of  cham- 
pagne should  never  be  refused." 

"Well,  I'll  allow  myself  to  go  so  far  as  that." 

"  Have  a  biscuit  with  it  ?  " 

"I  should  like  better,  if  it  is  all  the  same  to  you, 
that  thigh  of  a  roast  chicken  that  I  see  on  the  dish." 

"That's  easy  enough.  Draw  your  chair  up  to 
the  table.  Manette,  a  cover  for  Putiphar.  You'll 
have  some  pate  de  foie  gras,  too  ?  " 

"  I'll  let  myself  go  so  far  as  that  —  but,  really, 
I  am  ashamed ;  monsieur  will  think  me  very  gour- 
mandizing." 

"That's  not  a  defect,  madame,  it  is  a  good 
quality." 

Madame  Putiphar  sat  down  to  the  table  and 
stuffed  herself  with  fowl,  pate,  truffles,  and  did  full 
justice  to  the  bordeaux,  madeira,  champagne,  and 
never  paused  until  they  brought  in  the  dessert. 
Then  she  wiped  her  mouth,  and  said, — 

"  This  is  a  very  delightful  little  feast,  and  mon- 
sieur knows  how  to  treat  the  ladies." 

"  By  Jove,  mesdames,  of  what  use  is  money  if 
not  to  make  things  agreeable  for  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  what  a  pretty  phrase  !  monsieur,  you  de- 
serve to  be  embalmed." 


40  ADHfiMAR 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  embalmed  ?  " 

"  I  meant  to  say  moulded  into  a  statuette." 

"  Unfortunately,"  said  Rosa,  "  for  some  time 
past  you've  made  yourself  scarce  ;  one  hardly  ever 
sees  you  now." 

"  That  is  not  my  fault ;  I  am  not  at  my  own  dis- 
posal since  my  intimate  friend,  the  Count  Miflores 
came  to  Paris." 

"  Oh,  that  Sicilian  —  who  is  so  rich." 

"  He  does  not  know  the  amount  of  his  own 
wealth." 

"  Is  he  related  to  you  ?  " 

"  No,  but  in  Sicily  I  rendered  him  an  import- 
ant service;  he  was  about  to  fall  into  a  volcano  — 
you  know  there  are  volcanoes  in  Sicily." 

"Yes,  mountains  that  crackle  with  fire.  I've 
seen  one  in  a  play  at  the  Gaite." 

"  My  Sicilian,  being  very  curious  and  very  ven- 
turesome also,  had  climbed  to  the  top  of  Mount 
Etna  and  was  looking  down  into  the  mouth  of  the 
crater ;  suddenly,  his  cane  slipped  from  his  grasp 
and  fell  into  the  gulf  of  fire.  Count  Miflores  set 
great  store  by  this  cane,  which  came  to  him  from 
his  mother,  and  he  was  about  to  descend  into  the 
crater  to  try  to  recover  it,  which  would  have  been 
to  court  certain  death.  Fortunately,  I  was  there  — 
with  my  dog,  a  magnificent  Newfoundland ;  I 
showed  him  the  gulf  and  the  cane,  of  which  the  end 
could  still  be  seen,  and  said,  *  Fetch  it  1  fetch  it!* 
My  dog  understood  me,  he  dashed  into  the  crater, 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        41 

from  whence  he  presently  emerged  bearing  the  cane 
between  his  teeth,  he  laid  it  at  my  feet,  and  I  handed 
it  to  the  delighted  count,  who  vowed  to  me  at  that 
moment  a  friendship  nothing  could  alter." 

"  The  brave  count !  no,  I  meant  to  say  the  brave 
dog !  You  gave  him  a  famous  bone,  no  doubt,  when 
you  reached  home  ?  " 

"Alas!  the  poor  animal  never  reached  home — 
in  a  moment  more  he  fell  dead  at  my  feet — he 
was  roasted,  the  heat  of  the  crater  had  cooked  him." 

"  Why,  that  was  strange  !  and  although  roasted 
he  had  been  able  to  bring  up  the  cane  ? " 

"  His  devotion  sustained  him.  But  I  think, 
madame,  it  is  time  to  attack  this  almond  cake,  and 
moisten  it  with  some  Alicante  wine." 

"  Yes,  yes,  we  will  attack  it  and  moisten  it  too  ; 
Putiphar,  won't  you  have  some  almond  cake?" 

"  Why,  I  will  allow  myself  to  go  so  far  as  that. 
As  for  Alicante  wine,  I  would  do  anything  to  get 
that." 

"  And  what  has  your  Sicilian  come  to  Paris  to 
do?" 

"In  the  first  place  to  see  this  marvellous  city, 
which  the  whole  world  desires  to  know,  and  which 
no  one  can  leave  when  once  he  has  tasted  its  pleas- 
ures. In  the  next  place  this  devil  of  a  Miflores 
has  a  mad  fancy  —  he  wants  to  get  married." 

"  You  call  that  a  mad  fancy,  monsieur,  why,  it 
is  the  predominating  idea." 

"  Don't  say  anything  bad  about  marriage  before 


42  ADHEMAR 

Putiphar,  Dodlchet,  she  won't  forgive  you  If  you 
do." 

"  I  would  forgive  everything  to  monsieur,  who 
knows  so  well  how  to  feast  ladies ;  only  I  should 
like  to  convert  him  —  " 

"  By  Jove,  madame,  if  I  do  not  care  about  mar- 
riage for  myself,  I  assure  you  that  I  have  no  wish 
to  disgust  others  with  it;  and  the  proof  of  that  is, 
that  I  am  looking  for  a  wife  for  my  rich  SiciHan." 

"A  wife!  —  you  are  looking  for  a  wife,  mon- 
sieur? Oh,  then,  pardon  me,  a  little  Alicante,  if  you 
please  —  I  can  manage  your  business  for  you." 

"  My  faith  !  if  you  can  find  me  some  one  suita- 
ble for  my  friend  you  will  greatly  please  me,  for 
I  haven't  time  to  do  it  myself — my  head  is  full  of 
commissions  In  sugar — I  am  obliged  to  neglect  my 
own  business,  and  it  bothers  me  !  " 

"  Monsieur,  I  must  first  ask  a  very  important 
question  :  Is  your  count  rich  ?  " 

"  I  think  you  said  he  did  not  know  the  extent  of 
his  fortune  ? " 

"  Then  he  will  want  a  rich  wife  also  ?  " 

"  Not  the  least  little  bit  in  the  world ;  he  cares 
nothing  about  money ;  he  has  enough  of  it  for  two." 

"  Really  1  he  doesn't  require  a  dowry  ?  " 

"  A  dowry  !  well  if  a  father  were  to  offer  him  a 
dowry  he  would  be  capable  of  giving  him  a  slap  in 
the  face ;  it  would  offend  him." 

"  What  a  distinguished  man;  another  little  drop 
of  Alicante." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        43 

"  And  some  chartreuse  ?  " 

"  Presently,  M.  Godichet." 

"  Dodichet." 

"  Never  mind  that.  Pray  what  does  your  count 
desire  in  a  young  lady  ?  " 

"  Now  you  are  talking ;  well,  in  the  first  place 
she  must  be  young  — " 

"  That  is  of  course." 

"  Well-formed,  pretty." 

"  Those  are  slight  things." 

"  Then,  she  must  be  a  real  young  lady  —  you 
understand  me  ? " 

"  Perfectly  !  I  have  all  that,  monsieur ;  I  have 
all  that,  and  everybody  cannot  offer  you  as  much." 

"Really,  and  you  assure  me  that  she  is  all  I 
say? 

"Yes,  monsieur,  as  I  am  an  honest  woman.  A 
young  person  who  has  been  perfectly  brought  up 
by  the  strictest  of  parents,  who  never  goes  out 
alone — " 

"  Why,  this  seems  to  me  almost  hke  a  miracle  ! 
Oh,  there's  just  one  more  condition.  My  Sicilian 
wishes  that  she  should  be  a  Parisian  —  he  insists 
on  that  last  clause;  he  thinks  that  only  a  Parisian 
can  wear  a  crinoline  gracefully." 

"  My  young  lady  is  a  Parisian,  monsieur,  born, 
I  think,  in  the  Rue  du  Pont-aux-Choux,  the  centre 
of  Paris." 

"The  centre  of  the  Marais,  you  mean,  Putiphar." 

"That doesn't  make  any  difference." 


44  ADHEMAR 

"  No  ;  Miflores  doesn't  hold  to  his  future  wife 
being  born  in  the  Chaussee-d'Antin,  all  the  more 
that  he  doesn't  know  the  Chaussee-d'Antin.  And 
the  family  is  honorable  ?  Deuce  take  it !  we  in- 
sist on  that.  You  can  understand  that  a  Sicilian 
count  would  not  ally  himself  with  a  dealer  in  rab- 
bit-skins." 

"  Oh,  monsieur,  the  family  is  very  honorable. 
M.  Mirotaine,  the  papa,  is  a  former  tip-staff." 

"  You  are  sure  of  that  ?  " 

"Positively,  monsieur:  he  no  longer  does  any- 
thing ;  he  lives  on  his  income.  Juliette's  mother, 
my  young  lady  is  named  Juliette,  her  mother,  I 
say,  is  dead ;  M.  Mirotaine  is  remarried  to  a  per- 
son much  younger  than  himself;  from  which  you 
can  conclude  that  the  stepmother  is  in  a  hurry  to 
marry  her  stepdaughter." 

"  Very  good !  things  seem  to  me  to  be  going 
swimmingly." 

"  Monsieur,  will  you  in  turn  permit  me  a  few 
questions." 

"What's  that,  Madame  Joseph  —  no  I  meant 
to  say  Putiphar  —  all  the  questions  you  like,  with 
some  chartreuse  —  to  drink  with  these  young 
ladies  1  " 

"  Yes,  yes ;  let  us  drink.  Do  you  like  this 
chartreuse,  Putiphar  ? " 

"  If  it  is  green,  I  am  afraid  it  will  be  too  strong." 

"  This  is  yellow  and  that  other  is  green." 

"Then  I'll  allow  myself  to  go  so  far  as  to  take 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        45 

some.  Oh,  M.  Godichet  can  boast  of  a  great  many 
things." 

Madame  Putiphar  tasted  the  yellow  chartreuse, 
but  that  did  not  make  her  forget  the  grand  affair 
that  she  had  caught  a  glimpse  of,  and  she  addressed 
Dodichet, — 

"  Monsieur,  will  you  first  of  all  tell  me  the  age 
of  your  count." 

"  Thirty-six  years  ;  he  looks  forty,  but  that  is 
due  to  the  expression  he  assumes." 

"  The  age  is  perfect,  and  the  physique." 

"  The  physique  is  like  the  age ;  a  fine  height 
and  presence,  a  complexion  like  a  rose,  rather  a 
big  nose,  but  he's  the  better  able  to  blow  it." 

"  My  faith  !  monsieur,  all  this  seems  to  accord 
on  both  sides.  Allow  me  this  very  day  to  speak 
of  your  rich  friend  to  the  Mirotaine  family,  and  as 
soon  as  he  can  let  him  present  himself." 

"  One  minute,  dear  lady  ;  with  Miflores  things 
can't  go  quite  thus.  He's  a  very  eccentric  fellow; 
he  is  timid,  and,  what  is  more,  extremely  suscep- 
tible." 

"You  want  M.  Mirotaine  to  go  and  seek  him 
out .? " 

"  No,  indeed !  that  would  ruin  everything  ! " 

"  What  is  to  be  done  then  ?  My  faith  !  I  think 
I'll  risk  a  little  green  chartreuse,  one  ought  to  get 
used  to  everything  !  " 

"  You  are  quite  right.  I  drink  to  the  fair  sex, 
of  whom  you  are  one,  Madame  Putiphar." 


46  ADH£MAR 

"  I  have  always  hoped  so,  monsieur.  Your 
health  !  Hum  !  it's  strong,  why  it  is  quite  pene- 
trating !  Let  us  see,  monsieur,  what  is  necessary  to 
be  done  in  order  to  put  in  hand  the  marriage  of 
your  count  to  my  young,  innocent  Juliette  ?  " 

"  Listen  carefully,  and  I  will  inform  you.  In 
the  first  place,  Miflores  will  never  consent  to  pre- 
sent himself  immediately  to  a  family  as  a  suitor ; 
he  will  want  to  know,  study,  examine  at  his  ease, 
the  damsel  —  and  I  shall  have  to  be  careful  not  to 
tell  him  that  she  is  aware  he  intends  to  marry  her ; 
what  is  more,  as  my  friend  is  very  timid,  he  always 
wants  me  to  accompany  him.  I  shall  find  a  pre- 
text for  going  to  your  Mirotaine's ;  I  shall  say  that 
I  have  business  of  a  commercial  nature  with  the 
papa,  and  that  I  need  to  go  to  him  to  get  his  answer. 

Thus  my  friend  will  be  quite  ready  to  accompany 

>> 
me. 

"  All  that  is  very  easy,  monsieur ;  I  shall  tell 
M.  Mirotaine  that  you  are  very  influential  with 
the  would-be  husband." 

"  And  you  won't  be  lying,  I  beg  you  to  believe. 
Oh,  one  other  thing !  My  friend  has  the  habit 
of  dining  in  every  house  he  visits ;  it's  a  noble 
habit  contracted  in  Sicily.  If  they  do  not  give 
him  dinner,  he  gets  the  worst  opinion  of  the  peo- 
ple where  I  take  him ;  what  is  more,  he  is  quite 
an  epicure,  and  a  good  dinner,  good  wines,  dainties, 
all  dispose  him  very  favorably." 

"Dang  it,  you're  getting  more  difficult  now;  for 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        47 

I  must  confess  to  you  that  M.  Mirotaine  is  a  little 
sparing  of  expense,  rather  avaricious,  would  split 
a  word.  He  never  gives  a  dinner.  When  by 
chance  he  invites  any  one,  it  is  on  condition  that 
each  one  brings  a  dish." 

"  We  shall  bring  nothing  at  all,  I  promise  you. 
Then  there  is  nothing  to  be  done  with  him  there!" 

"  But  it  seems  to  me,"  said  Rosa,  "  that  to  find 
a  noble,  rich  son-in-law,  who  takes  his  daughter 
without  a  dowry,  he  might  well  put  himself  to  a 
little  expense." 

"I  should  think  so,  indeed,"  cried  Boulotte, 
"  such  a  match  as  that  is  a  treasure." 

"Yes,  my  dear  belles,  you  are  right.  M.  Godi- 
chet,  nothing  is  ruptured.  I  will  speak  to  the  step- 
mother; she  will  second  me;  she  will  be  delighted 
to  ally  herself  with  a  count.  She  will  make  her 
husband  hear  reason —  they  will  give  a  repast." 

"  Good  enough  !  " 

"  Yes,  and,  in  the  mean  time,  M.  Godichet  would 
still  like  to  go  to  see  M.  Mirotaine,  I  suppose?" 

"It  is  altogether  needless;  I  shall  go  there  only 
on  the  day  that  they  give  us  a  dinner,  and  if  it  were 
not  to  oblige  my  friend  I  should  not  go  there  at 
all ;  but  one  must  needs  devote  one's  self  to  one's 
friends." 

"  Mesdames,  I  must  leave  you,  I  must  not  de- 
lay in  seeing  about  this  matter." 

"  Go,  Putiphar,  go  !  it  will  be  well  worth  your 
while ! " 


48  ADHfiMAR 

"  As  soon  as  I  have  the  day  for  the  dinner  set- 
tled, I  will  write  to  you,  M.  Godichet." 

"  Dodichet,  once  again." 

"  Pardon  me  !  Dodichet.  Oh,  your  address,  if 
you  please !  " 

"  I  lodge  at  the  Grand  Hotel ;  but  you'll  never 
find  me  there,  it  is  so  big.  Send  your  answer  here, 
to  these  young  ladies,  who  will  give  it  to  me." 

"  So  be  it ;  that  is  settled.  It  will  perhaps  take 
some  days  to  induce  M.  Mirotaine  to  give  a  dinner, 
but  we  shall  manage  to  do  so.  Good  day,  M. — 
Dodichet,  I  got  it  right,  this  time.  Oh,  if  the 
marriage  is  brought  to  a  conclusion,  as  I  hope  it 
will  be,  I  ask  to  be  allowed  to  furnish  the  basket 
and  all  the  presents  the  future  husband  gives." 

"  You  shall  furnish  all,  Madame  Putiphar,  even 
to  the  bridegroom's  braces,  if  the  thing  comes  off." 

"  Oh,  M.  Dodichet,  you  are  an  agreeable  man." 

"  Have  some  more  of  the  green  before  you  go." 

"  I  will  let  myself  go  so  far  as  that.  Rosa,  some 
other  day  we  will  talk  about  a  brooch." 

"  Yes,  Putiphar,  there  is  no  hurry  about  that !  " 

And  the  dealer  in  toilet  articles,  whose  skin  had 
turned  violet  from  the  quantity  she  had  imbibed, 
made  a  very  stately  bow  to  the  company. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Two  Friends 

Juliette,  M.  Mirotaine's  only  daughter,  was 
nearly  nineteen  years  of  age,  but  she  was  so  gentle 
and  timid  that  she  might  easily  have  been  taken 
for  a  schoolgirl  of  twelve;  she  trembled  before  her 
father,  who  had  always  treated  her  with  severity  ; 
and  since  she  had  had  a  stepmother  her  life  had 
been  passed  in  doing  the  will  of  the  one  or  other 
of  her  parents.  Let  us  hasten  to  say  that  Madame 
Mirotaine,  however,  was  not  a  tyrant,  she  was 
not  even  unkind  at  bottom,  but  she  wished  to  be 
relieved  of  her  stepdaughter  because  she  herself 
was  coquettish  and  Juliette  was  very  pretty ;  for  if, 
on  account  of  her  timidity,  the  latter  resembled  a 
child,  her  physique  was  quite  that  of  a  young  and 
beautiful  girl  of  nineteen  ;  she  had  a  pretty  figure, 
a  white  skin,  brown  hair,  her  mouth  was  sweet  in 
expression,  her  teeth  even,  and  her  almond-shaped 
eyes  were  delightfully  soft  and  gentle.  Only,  she 
nearly  always  kept  them  lowered,  at  least  before 
her  parents ;  it  pleases  me  to  think,  however,  that 
she  raised  them  sometimes  when  she  was  talking 
with  Lucien. — 

Juliette  was  very  sensitive,  as  one  might  easily 

Vol.  XXIV       49 


50  ADHEMAR 

see  by  the  expression  of  her  eyes  and  hear  from 
the  sound  of  her  voice ;  she  had,  therefore,  Hstened 
at  first  with  pleasure  and  later  with  love  to  Lucien's 
declarations  !  for  he  had  been  coming  for  a  long 
time  to  M.  Mirotaine's,  whose  commissions  and 
errands  he  was  always  ready  to  fulfil,  but  they  had 
received  him  with  less  alacrity  since  he  had  dared  to 
ask  M.  Mirotaine  for  his  daughter's  hand.  The 
father  had  thus  answered  him, — 

"  My  daughter  has  no  dowry ;  you  have  not  a 
sou,  no  position,  no  trade,  therefore,  you  cannot 
marry  her.  Make  money,  set  up  a  prosperous 
establishment,  and  I  will  give  you  my  daughter." 

"  Then,  monsieur,  promise  to  keep  her  for  me 
until  I  have  done  so." 

"  Not  at  all !  that  might  be  altogether  too  long 
a  period.  I  shall  marry  Juliette  as  soon  as  I  have 
found  a  good  match  ;  and  while  awaiting  that  I 
should  like  you  still  to  come  here  and  do  my  com- 
missions and  my  errands,  when  I  have  need ;  but 
only  on  condition  that  you  never  have  a  private 
interview  with  my  daughter,  and  that  you  do  not 
speak  to  her  again  of  love." 

Lucien  had  promised;  he  was  obliged  to  promise, 
in  order  to  be  received  at  the  Mirotaines' ;  but  it 
may  be  seen  that  the  situation  of  the  lovers  had 
become  very  distressing,  and  it  was  with  great  dif- 
ficulty that  they  could  furtively  exchange  a  word 
of  endearment. 

Fortunately  for  Juliette,  she  had  a  bosom  friend 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK         51 

to  whom  she  could  open  her  heart,  to  whom  she 
could  tell  all  her  troubles,  all  her  hopes,  in  fact, 
all  that  passed  in  her  heart  or  her  mind. 

This  was  a  school  friend,  who  was,  however,  six 
years  older  than  Juliette,  but  who,  from  her  way 
of  seeing  things  and  of  feeling  and  loving,  was  per- 
fectly in  harmony  with  her  younger  friend.  This 
friend  had  been  married  immediately  on  leaving 
school;  she  had  not  been  able  to  get  them  to  allow 
Juliette,  who  was  then  only  fourteen,  to  attend  her 
wedding,  but  Juliette  had  obtained  from  her  father 
permission  to  receive  her  friend.  M.  Mirotaine, 
knowing  that  the  latter  was  rich,  had  judged  that 
the  acquaintance  was  desirable. 

As  one  may  imagine,  when  love  dawned  between 
Juliette  and  Lucien,  this  love  was  confided  to  the 
tender  friend,  as  well  as  their  mortifications,  their 
hopes,  and  the  plans  they  had  formed  for  the  future ; 
the  friend  had  by  this  time  become  a  widow,  but 
as  she  had  not  married  for  love,  it  is  probable  that 
she  wept  very  few  tears  on  the  bosom  of  her  young 
friend. 

It  was  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon ;  Juliette 
was  alone  in  her  room  and  was  feeling  even  sadder 
than  usual,  the  reason  for  which  we  shall  learn 
later.  She  had  at  least  the  privilege  of  having  a 
room  where  she  could  be  alone  when  she  pleased ; 
a  little  passage  opening  into  the  antechamber  led 
to  it,  but  for  which  she  would  have  been  obHged 
to  pass  through  the  rest  of  the  apartments.    The 


52  ADHEMAR 

young  girl  therefore  could,  in  a  strait,  have  some- 
times received  a  stolen  visit  from  Lucien  ;  for  the 
latter  could  have  slipped  into  her  room  from  the 
dining-room.  But  Juliette  would  not  allow  that ; 
she  felt  that  she  would  be  doing  wrong  to  receive 
a  young  man  secretly  in  her  room,  and  she  did  not 
wish  to  expose  herself  to  the  remonstrances  of  her 
stepmother  or  to  her  father's  anger.  But  Juliette 
was  lonely  there,  sighed  there,  and  sometimes  even 
wept  there,  for  the  greater  part  of  the  day. 

It  was  therefore  with  an  exclamation  of  joy,  a 
feeHng  of  happiness,  that  the  poor  girl  saw  the  one 
friend  to  whom  she  could  divulge  the  feelings  of 
her  heart  come  into  the  room. 

"  Why,  here  is  Nathalie  at  last !  "  said  Juliette, 
running  to  meet  the  young  lady,  who  began  by 
kissing  her.  "  What  a  long  time  it  is  since  you 
came  to  see  me !  for  shame  !  it's  very  naughty  of 
you,  madame,  to  abandon  me  thus  when  you  are 
the  only  friend  I  have!  the  only  consolation.  Sit 
down  beside  me.     How  pleased  I  am  to  see  you." 

"  My  dearest  JuHette,  don't  scold  me ;  if  I  have 
let  some  time  elapse  without  coming  to  see  you  it 
is  because  I  have  been  rather  unwell." 

"  Well,  since  you  were  ill  there  is  nothing  to  be 
said  —  but  you  should  have  written  to  me,  I  would 
have  shown  your  letter  to  my  father,  and  he  would 
have  let  me  go  to  see  you  —  to  take  care  of  you." 

"It  was  hardly  worth  while,  you  can  see  for  your- 
self that  I  am  all  right  now." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        52 

"  Why,  yes  ;  still,  you  are  rather  pale." 

"  I  am  always  pale.  But  here  are  you  with  red 
eyes  ;  what  does  that  mean?  You  have  been  cry- 
ing— is  there  anything  new.''  is  it  because  Lucien 
no  longer  loves  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  the  poor  fellow;  I  can  read  in  his  eyes 
that  he  will  love  me  for  ever — for  he  can  only  say 
it  to  me  with  his  eyes  —  but  I  understand  them 
well!" 

"  What  is  the  matter,  then  ?  " 

"  Good  heavens  !  it  is  that  they  are  always  want- 
ing to  marry  me,  above  all  my  stepmother,  who 
wants  to  get  rid  of  me;  and  this  time,  it  seems,  they 
have  found  a  husband.  It's  that  horrid  old  toilet 
dealer,  Madame  Putiphar,  who  has  brought  all  that 
about.  She  had  promised  my  stepmother  to  look 
out  for  me.  This  time  they  assert  that  it  is  a  fine 
match  —  a  Neapolitan  or  Sicilian  count — in  fact, 
an  Italian  nobleman  who  is  enormously  rich  and 
requires  no  dowry  —  you  understand,  no  dowry. 
That  is  what  attracts  my  father !  " 

"  And  have  you  seen  this  count  ?  " 

"  No,  not  yet,  thank  God ;  but  it  seems  I  soon 
shall,  for  they  are  going  to  give  a  dinner  to  him 
and  one  of  his  friends  who  accompanies  him  every- 
where." 

"Your  father  is  going  to  give  a  dinner?  impos- 
sible ! " 

"Oh,  he  would  not  do  it,  but  it  seems  this  count 
always  dines  at  the  houses  he  visits  —  he  and  his 


54  ADHEMAR 

friend ;  so  my  stepmother  Aldegonde  made  my 
father  hear  reason ;  she  said  to  him,  '  You  must 
give  a  dinner,  and  it  must  be  a  good  one ;  a  rich 
and  noble  son-in-law  is  well  worth  the  trouble  and 
expense.'  My  father  swore,  but  he  yielded.  So 
the  time  is  fixed,  and  the  day  after  tomorrow  this 
future  husband  will  dine  here.  And  that  is  why  I 
was  crying,  why  I  am  so  unhappy  !  And  I  easily 
saw  by  Lucien's  eyes  that  he  knows  it  all.  Alde- 
gonde would  be  sure  to  tell  him,  out  of  spite." 

"  Come,  calm  yourself,  my  dear  Juliette,  this  mar- 
riage isn't  made  yet.  You  are  very  pretty,  but  your 
style  of  beauty  may  not  please  this  Italian." 

"  Oh,  I  shall  make  grimaces  at  him." 

"  A  thousand  obstacles  may  intervene.  Has 
your  father  obtained  any  information  about  this 
gentleman  ? " 

"  I  don't  think  so,  they  rely  on  the  words  of  the 
dealer  in  toilet  articles,  who  has  praised  him  floridly, 
as  has  her  friend,  who  is  a  merchant's  broker." 

"A  marriage  broker  rather.  In  fact,  I  feel  sure 
your  father  will  not  marry  you  without  knowing  to 
whom  he  gives  you.  And  —  wait  a  bit!  —  there's 
something  there  that  seems  very  strange  to  me,  and 
that  is  that  this  nobleman  should  absolutely  insist 
on  their  giving  him  a  dinner  —  to  him  and  to  his 
friend.  Do  you  know,  that  looks  like  a  joke  to 
me,  that  does." 

"  That  is  true.  You  are  right ;  it  doesn't  seem 
natural." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK         55 

"  I  don't  know  why,  but  I  suspect  there's  some 
trick  in  all  this.  There  are  so  many  schemes  in 
Paris.  Believe  me,  darling,  this  marriage  is  not  yet 
accomplished  and  something  tells  me  it  never  will 
be." 

"  My  dear  Nathalie,  you  restore  my  hope,  you 
bring  back  joy  to  my  heart !  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  you 
came  ! 

"Yes,  and  you  little  suspect  —  that  you  ran  a 
risk  of  never  seeing  me  again  —  that  I  have  been 
in  great  danger." 

"  Good  heavens  !  you  frighten  me  !  What  was 
the  matter  ? " 

"  My  gown  caught  fire,  it  was  blazing  on  me 
without  my  noticing  it." 

"  O  heavens !  " 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  the  danger  is  past  —  since  I 
am  here  1 " 

"  Was  it  long  ago  that  this  happened  ?  " 

"  A  week  —  barely.  I  was  passing  along  the 
boulevard,  and  it  seems  my  gown  came  in  contact 
with  a  lighted  match,  which  those  gentlemen  who 
smoke  have  the  kindness  to  strew  upon  their  way, 
probably  for  the  pleasure  of  roasting  us.  My  gown 
was  burning,  though  I  did  not  yet  suspect  it  — 
suddenly,  I  felt  myself  seized,  surrounded  by  two 
strong  arms,  I  was  about  to  cry  out,  believing  my- 
self insulted  by  the  one  who  had  saved  me,  my 
dear.  A  young  man,  at  the  risk  of  hurting  him- 
self, had  endeavored  to  extinguish  my  gown,  which 


S6  ADHEMAR 

he  did  very  cleverly  although  in  doing  so  he  burned 
his  hand  very  badly." 

"  The  poor  fellow !  I  should  like  to  thank  him. 
Was  he  a  workman  !  " 

"  No,  he  was  a  very  distinguished  young  man, 
and  very  good-looking.  In  the  first  moment  every- 
body surrounded  us,  you  know  how  curious  people 
are  in  Paris.  Fortunately  there  was  a  chemist's 
close  by,  where  we  took  refuge  ;  and  there,  while 
they  were  dressing  this  gentleman's  hand,  we  had 
a  little  talk.  You  may  imagine  I  was  desirous  of 
knowing  to  whom  I  was  under  so  great  an  obliga- 
tion —  I  asked  the  name  of  my  rescuer  and  he  gave 
me  his  card !  It  was  M.  Adhemar  Monbrun,  an 
author  who  writes  charming  plays ;  you  do  not 
know  of  him,  for  you  never  go  to  the  theatre  — 
poor  little  thing." 

"  No,  but  I  know  him  by  name,  through  Lucien. 
This  Adhemar  Monbrun  is  a  friend  of  his;  he  has 
often  spoken  to  me  of  him  and  he  says  much  that 
is  good  of  him." 

"  Really !  So  M.  Lucien  knows  him,  and  speaks 
well  of  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  says  he  is  a  very  obliging  man  !  always 
ready  to  serve  his  friends  —  sometimes,  even,  he 
has  said  to  me,  *If  I  wanted  money,  I  am  quite 
sure  Adhemar  would  lend  it  to  me;  but  I  think  no 
one  should  borrow  unless  he  knows  how  he  is  go- 
ing to  pay  it  back.'     Well,  finish  your  story." 

"  It  is  finished,  or  nearly  so.     When  this  gen- 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK         57 

tleman  gave  me  his  card  I  thought  it  only  proper 
to  give  him  mine  —  not  wishing  he  should  think 
he  had  saved  a  gay  woman  —  as  they  now  call  cour- 
tesans. Then  I  sent  for  a  carriage,  for  I  could  not 
go  on  foot  because  of  my  burned  dress ;  the  car- 
riage came,  M.  Adhemar  led  me  to  it,  I  offered  to 
take  him  with  me,  for  he  was  obliged  to  carry  his 
arm  in  a  sling  —  that  was  quite  natural,  was  it  not  ? " 

"Most  assuredly!  the  poor  young  man  —  he 
was  badly  burned  then  ?  " 

"  Yes,  on  his  wrist,  it  will  be  nothing,  only  he 
will  perhaps  bear  the  scar  of  it.  He  refused  my 
offer  and  left  me." 

"Oh!  and  is  that  all?" 

"Yes." 

"  What  a  pity  !  " 

"  You  are  a  child.  Oh,  yes,  there  is  still  some- 
thing else." 

"  There  now  !  I  was  quite  sure  it  wasn't  ended." 

"  I  thought  it  would  be  impolite  of  me,  knowing 
the  gentleman's  address,  not  to  send  to  learn  how 
his  burn  was  heahng  —  for  after  all  it  was  for  me, 
in  saving  me,  that  he  had  been  injured." 

"  Why,  certainly,  it  was  your  duty  to  send  and 
ask  after  him." 

"  However,  I  hesitated  for  a  long  time." 

"  And  why  was  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  because  —  I  don't  know  !  I  was  afraid  of 
seeming  to  thrust  myself  on  this  young  man." 

"  Really  !  was  that  the  reason  ? " 


58  ADHEMAR 

"  Oh,  you  are  naughty  this  morning.  Well,  at 
last  I  decided,  and  three  days  ago  I  sent  my  ser- 
vant to  get  news  of  his  burn  ;  she  saw  the  gentle- 
man, who  said  it  was  almost  healed,  that  he  thanked 
me  greatly  for  the  interest  I  wished  to  convey  to 
him,  and  for  which  he  should  have  the  honor  of 
coming  to  thank  me  in  person." 

"  Oh,  then  he  has  been  to  see  you  ?  " 

"  No,  that  is  three  days  ago  and  he  has  not  come. 
Oh,  he  only  said  that  for  politeness'  sake  —  he 
won't  come." 

"And  I'll  wager  that  he  will." 

"  He  can  come  if  he  likes  ;  after  all,  it  will  make 
no  difference  to  me." 

"What  a  fib?" 

"Juliette!" 

"  Yes,  a  fib  — it  is  not  all  the  same  to  you.  Look 
here,  Nathalie,  am  I  not  to  be  in  your  confidence  ? 
You  have  said  to  me  many  times,  *They  married 
me  for  their  own  reasons,  I  have  never  known  what 
it  is  to  love  —  it  must,  however,  be  very  sweet. 
I  am  very  lonely  sometimes,  and  if  I  loved,  it  seems 
to  me  I  should  be  no  longer  lonely.' " 

"  Yes,  I  have  told  you  all  that  —  what  then  ?  " 

"Well,  let  me  look  in  your  eyes  —  wait!  I'll 
vouch  for  it  you  are  no  longer  lonely." 

"  Why,  Juliette,  what  an  idea!  do  you  wish  me 
to  love  some  one  whom  I  scarcely  know,  who  has 
only  spoken  to  me  once  —  who  has  no  desire  to. 
meet  me  again,  as  you  see." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        59 

"Goodness!  I  didn't  say  you  were  in  love  — 
but  only  that  I  think  he  pleased  you  —  and  that 
you  could  have  loved  him." 

"  Why,  yes,  yes,  darling ;  yes,  he  did  please  me 
—  yes  —  I  don't  know  if  it  is  gratitude  for  the  ser- 
vice he  rendered  me.  Wait,  I  will  not  hide  any- 
thing from  you  again.  Since  that  day  I  don't  know 
what  is  the  matter  with  me  —  I  am  uneasy,  I  am 
sad,  everything  irritates  me,  I  want  to  cry,  I  think 
of  him  incessantly  ;  I  say  to  myself  that  I  am  fool- 
ish, that  I  have  no  common  sense.  But  I  am  no 
longer  lonely — no,  no,  I  am  no  longer  lonely.'* 

And  Nathalie  kissed  her  friend  tenderly,  her 
heart  was  solaced,  it  had  needed  to  vent  itself.  Then 
she  resumed, — 

"And  Lucien  knows  him  —  oh,  how  I  should 
like  to  see  Lucien,  I  should  ask  him  a  thousand 
things ;  but  he  has  spoken  well  of  him  to  you .? " 

"  Yes,  very  well.     Oh,  now  I  remember  —  " 

"  What  do  you  remember  ?  " 

"  No,  I  won't  tell  you  that." 

"Something  that  concerns  M.  Adhemar?  I 
want  you  to  tell  me,  on  the  contrary,  and  at  once ! " 

"  Well,  Lucien  said  to  me,  *  It's  a  pity  that  Adhe- 
mar will  never  place  faith  in  any  one  he  loves  — 
it  is  true  he  has  been  so  often  deceived  by  his  mis- 
tresses that  it  may  have  rendered  him  suspicious ; 
but  now  he  carries  it  too  far,  and  he  has  sworn 
never  to  love  another  woman." 

Nathalie  smiled  as  she  said, — 


6o  ADHEMAR 

"  Drunkard's  vows  those,  my  dear  child !  and 
this  gentleman  is  not  of  an  age  to  keep  them." 

"And,  tell  me,  dearest,  you  have  nothing  new? 
you  have  had  no  news  ?  " 

"Of  whom?" 

"  You  know  very  well  whom  I  mean." 

"  Oh,  yes  —  I  understand  ;  but  my  adventure 
has  caused  me  to  forget  the  person  you  speak  of. 
No,  thank  heaven  !  1  have  not  seen  her  again." 

"  So  much  the  better!  for  when  I  think  about  it, 
I  am  always  afraid  for  you." 

"You  are  a  child  !" 

At  this  moment  Madame  Mirotaine  second  en- 
tered the  room,  saying, — 

"  Juliette,  your  father  is  inquiring  for  you.  Your 
servant,  madame ;  pardon  me  for  interrupting." 

"  No  interruption,  madame,  I  was  just  about  to 
leave ;  and  I  should  not  like  to  cause  Juliette  to 
disobey  her  father,  either.     Good-by,  little  one! " 

And  Nathalie  kissed  her  friend,  who  whispered 
to  her, — 

"  Come  and  see  me  after  the  famous  dinner,  and 
I  will  tell  you  all  about  it." 

"  And  I  will  tell  you  if  I  have  seen  him  again." 

"  Madame,  I  have  the  honor  to  wish  you  good- 
day.     My  compliments  to  M.  Mirotaine." 

"  I  shall  not  fail  to  give  them,  madame." 


CHAPTER  V 

A  Little  Served  in  Large  Dishes 

The  day  of  the  famous  dinner  arrived,  and 
everything  was  in  confusion  at  M.  Mirotaine's, 
where  the  entertainment  of  strangers  was  an  event 
quite  out  of  the  ordinary  course.  Since  ten  o'clock 
in  the  morning  the  master  of  the  house  had  been 
walking  nervously  about  his  apartments,  going 
every  moment  from  the  dining-room  to  the  kitchen, 
heaving  deep  sighs  as  he  saw  the  preparations  for 
the  repast;  when  he  saw  Goth,  his  young  servant, 
take  something  from  the  sideboard,  he  would  stop 
and  say, — 

"  What  are  you  taking  there  ?  '* 
"  Some  pepper,  monsieur." 
"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  pepper  ? " 
"  Put  it  in  some  sauce  piquantethat  I'm  making." 
"  And  of  what  use  is  sauce  piquante  ?  " 
"  It  is  to  eat  with  your  roast,  your  sirloin  of 
beef,  monsieur ;  a  fillet  would  have  been  tenderer, 
but  you  did  not  wish  for  that." 

"  And  why  not  have  ortolans  at  once  —  eh  ? 
You've  sworn  to  ruin  me  today.  Good  God,  what 
profusion  !  what  waste  !  leave  that  pepper  there  ! 
it  is  superfluous." 

6i 


62  ADHEMAR 

Madame  Mirotaine  arrived  at  this  juncture,  ex- 
claiming,— 

"  What  is  the  matter  here,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  Monsieur,  won't  let  me  take  the  pepper,"  said 
Goth ;  **  I  must  have  some,  however,  for  my 
sauces." 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of,  my  dear  ?  Do  you 
not  wish  everything  to  be  good? " 

"  I  wish  —  I  wish  you  weren't  throwing  my 
money  out  of  the  window.  Every  minute  this  girl 
is  coming  to  get  salt  or  pepper  —  it's  harrowing." 

"  Goodness,  monsieur,  why  haven't  I  a  store  of 
all  such  things  in  my  kitchen,  as  there  is  in  all 
good  houses  ?  Oh,  madame,  we  must  have  some 
gherkins,  and  some  capers  for  the  white  sauce  for 
the  fish." 

"  You  must  go  and  get  some." 

"Not  at  all!  they  are  unnecessary.  Of  what  use 
are  capers  ?  —  you  have  some  mustard  here." 

"  Why,  monsieur,  no  one  puts  mustard  in  a 
white  sauce." 

"  Make  it  brown,  then." 

"  My  dear,  if  you  don't  let  us  get  what  is  neces- 
sary for  the  dinner,  everything  will  be  spoiled,  and 
then  you  will  have  spent  money  uselessly,  instead 
of  doing  yourself  honor." 

M.  Mirotaine  drew  an  old  colored  handkerchief 
from  his  pocket  and  wiped  his  eyes,  muttering, — 

"  Aldegonde,  you  are  making  me  do  foolish 
things.   In  fact,  of  what  is  your  dinner  composed?  " 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        63 

"  In  the  first  place  we  have  julienne  soup." 

"  What  is  julienne  soup  ?  " 

"  It  is  made  of  chopped  vegetables." 

"  Ah !  chopped  vegetables  only  !    What  next? " 

"  On  the  table  there  will  be  butter  and  radishes." 

"  That  makes  two  dishes." 

"  No,  those  are  only  relishes,  they  don't  count." 

"  They  don't  count !  that's  pretty  !  They  have 

to  be  paid  for,  however." 

"  The  soup  is  always  followed  by  a  fish  —  " 
"  Are  you  sure  the  soup  must  be  followed  by 

fish?" 

"  It  is  customary.    We  have  a  pike  —  a  salmon 

would  have  been  better — but  as  the  very  smallest 

are  worth  from  fifteen  to  twenty  francs  —  " 

"  Monstrous !  monstrous !  and  to  think  that  there 

are  people  who  eat  salmon." 

"  I  have  therefore  substituted  a  pike,  for  which 

only  caper  sauce  is  necessary." 

"  Why  can't  we  eat  it  without  sauce  ? " 

"  It  won't  be  good  so.   On  either  side  of  the  fish 

we  shall  have  cutlets  on  mashed  potatoes  and  a  pie 

with  forcemeat  balls." 

"  One  at  twenty-four  sous,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  For  eleven  people !   what  are  you   thinking 

of?     No,  it  will  cost  two  francs,  and  that  will  be 

scrimped." 

"  Well  —  I  hope  that's  the  end  of  it." 

"  The  idea !  that's  only  the  first  course.  We  come 

to  the  second  — " 


64  ADHfeMAR 

"  Oh,  good  God  !  " 

"  For  the  roast  we  have  a  sirloin  ;  then  the  vege- 
tables, on  one  side  haricot  beans,  on  the  other, 

spinach." 

"  Why  do   you    want   any    more   vegetables  ? 

You've  already  given  them  with  your  julienne,  you 

told  me  so;  it  will  be  too  much  to  give  them  here," 
"  Juhenne  is  a  soup,  not  a  dish.    Then  next — " 
"  What,  is  there  more  to  follow  ? " 
"  A  dish  of  macaroni  and,  as  is  always  usual,  some 

sweets." 

"  Take  my  head  off  altogether,  why  don't  you?" 
"  No,  my  dear,  that  would  not  be  nice.  We  shall 

have  a  vanilla  cream ;  you  will  have  to  give  me 

some  more  sugar,  I  have  none  left." 
"Nor  I,  either." 

"  Then  there  is  plenty  at  the  grocer's." 
'*  No,  I  still  have  some  pieces  of  sugar  candy." 
"  Give  it  to  Goth.     Then  dessert,  of  the  fruits 

of  the  season." 

"  Some  almonds,  raisins,  figs  and  filberts." 

"  It  is  summer,  and  no  one  gives  dried  fruits  at 

this  season.     Then  some  cheese." 

"  MaroUes  cheese  —  that  is  the  best." 

"  Fie  !  for  shame !  do  you  want  to  poison  us 

with   your   marolles  ?    some   roquefort  and   some 

biscuits." 

"  Enough  !  enough!  you  are  kilHng  me." 

"  Oh,  madame  has  forgotten  the  salad." 

M.  Mirotaine,  infuriated  by  this  last  suggestion. 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        6s 

applied  his  foot  with  some  force  to  Goth's  person, 
and  exclaimed, — 

"  There  !  take  that  with  your  salad  —  that's  to 
teach  you  to  ask  for  something  else." 

Goth  began  to  cry  and  told  them  to  give  her  her 
wages  and  let  her  go.  Madame  Mirotaine  man- 
aged to  calm  her  and  sent  her  back  to  her  cook- 
ing ;  Aldegonde  scolded  her  husband  for  allowing 
himself  such  very  lively  remonstrances,  and  told 
him  she  would  leave  him  if  he  meddled  with  the 
domestic  details  again.  M.  Mirotaine,  who  was 
very  fond  of  his  wife,  precisely  because  she  led  him 
by  the  nose,  begged  her  pardon  and  sighed  as  he 
stammered, — 

"  It's  this  dinner  which  irritates  me,  makes  me 
feel  like  a  brute  !  " 

"  Remember,  you  are  going  to  be  rid  of  your 
daughter  —  to  marry  her  to  an  Italian  count,  who 
is  also  a  millionnaire,  the  Count  de  Miflores  !  — 
who  will  make  us  a  superb  present,  I  feel  quite 
sure,  when  he  sends  us  the  wedding  basket." 

"  Do  you  think  he  will  make  us  a  present  ? " 

"  Madame  Putiphar  is  sure  of  it." 

"  So  be  it !  " 

"  All  that  is  quite  worth  a  dinner.  Oh,  mon- 
sieur, have  you  thought  of  the  wine  ?  " 

"  Of  the  wine  ?  Why,  I  have  some  in  the  cel- 
lar. 

"  Yes,  our  ordinary  wine,  which  is  exceedingly 
bad  !  " 

Vol.  XXIV 


66  ADHEMAR 

"The  more  water  one  puts  In  it,  the  better  it  is." 

"  But  bordeaux  is  necessary  for  the  second 
course,  and  champagne  for  the  dessert  —  it  is  cus- 
tomary." 

"  Out  upon  your  custom  !  fortunately  I  know 
a  manufacturer  of  champagne  that  costs  only  one 
franc  or  twenty-five  sous  a  bottle." 

"  That  must  be  detestable." 

"  He  swears  it's  delicious,  and  that  it  foams  like 
beer." 

"  As  for  bordeaux,  you  have  received  a  basket 
of  twenty-five  bottles,  either  in  payment  or  as  a 
present,  but  I  know  it  is  excellent." 

"  Yes,  but  I  am  keeping  it  for  when  I  am  sick." 

"  You  must  give  me  two  bottles,  monsieur ;  I 
must  have  them." 

"  Two  bottles  !  isn't  one  enough  ?  " 

"  No,  we  are  eleven  at  table." 

"  So  many  as  that  ?  " 

"  When  people  entertain  strangers,  they  don't 
give  them  only  a  family  dinner,  that  is  too  uncere- 
monious. I  have  invited  all  the  Brid'oisons ;  we 
have  several  times  dined  with  them,  and  this  was 
a  very  good  opportunity  for  returning  their  hos- 
pitality ;  besides,  you  have  done  much  business 
with  M.  Brid'oison — " 

"  Oh  —  sometimes  he  sends  me  borrowers.  Are 
they  bringing  their  son  .?  " 

"  That  is  a  matter  of  course,  you  know  very 
well  how  foolish  they  are  about  him.     We  shall 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        67 

naturally  have  Madame  Putiphar ;  it  is  she  who 
is  making  the  marriage,  and  then  she  knows  an 
intimate  friend  of  the  count,  a  very  jolly  young 
man,  or  so  it  seems.  Then  I  have  invited  your 
sister,  Madame  Trichon  —  she  is  a  very  good 
woman." 

"  Yes,  she  is  a  widow  without  children,  with 
money  which  I  shall  inherit  should  she  die.  But 
she's  very  greedy  —  she  eats  a  good  deal." 

"  As  a  set-off  to  that  I've  invited  M.  Calle  ; 
he's  a  very  distinguished  young  man  and  he  eats 
almost  nothing." 

"  Do  you  believe  he  eats  almost  nothing  ?  but, 
by  the  way,  why  was  this  gentleman  invited  to 
dinner?" 

Aldegonde  bit  her  lips  for  a  moment  trying  to 
think  of  an  answer.     At  last  she  found  one, — 

"  This  young  man  is  a  very  good  musician.  He 
sings  very  well —  he  plays  the  flute.  In  the  even- 
ing, if  it  is  agreeable,  we  can  have  a  little  music." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  this  gentleman  can 
sing  and  accompany  himself  on  the  flute  ?  " 

"  No,  but  he  can  play  for  us  to  dance,  for  I  have 
invited  several  other  persons  for  the  evening  — 
and  if  we  wish  to  dance  — " 

"  Whom  have  you  invited,  then  ?  " 

"  The  ladies  Boudard,  your  friend  M.  Dubotte 
and  his  wife." 

"  Oh,  they'll  never  come  here  —  they  won't." 

"  He  has  said  that  he  hopes  to  come  on  this 


68  ADH£MAR 

occasion.  Then,  the  brothers  Bridoux.  Oh,  we 
shall  be  a  good  many  people.  Only  we  shall  have 
to  hand  about  refreshments  during  the  evening." 

"Well,  you  can  give  them  some  liquorice  water." 

"  No,  monsieur,  no  !  liquorice  water  will  pass 
when  we  have  only  your  sister  and  M.  Calle,  who 
is  very  sober,  but  for  strangers,  for  the  Italian 
count,  we  must  have  something  besides  liquorice 
water." 

"Well,  some  lemonade  then.  Cut  a  lemon  into 
two  or  three  quarts  of  water  —  it  is  very  refresh- 
ing." 

"  That  is  my  business,  monsieur  —  I  shall  have 
to  warn  you  —  I  know  exactly  what  it  is  necessary 
to  offer.  You  will  dress  yourself  decently,  I  hope." 

"  Am  I  not  all  right  as  I  am  ?  " 

"  No,  certainly  not,  you  have  soiled  linen  and 
a  waistcoat  covered  with  spots — you  must  wear  a 
black  coat." 

"  I  haven't  a  dress  coat." 

"  You  haven't  a  coat  ?  " 

"Why  should  I  have,  since  I  never  wear  one? 
but  I  have  a  black  frock  coat,  which  is  only  five 
years  old,  and  is  as  good  as  new." 

"  Well,  monsieur,  be  careful  about  your  dress, 
I  have  advised  your  daughter  also  to  make  herself 
look  as  nice  as  she  can  ;  she  must  try  to  please  this 
M.  Miflores ! " 

"  Oh,  the  young  girls  are  always  coquettish 
enough." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK         69 

"  As  for  myself,  I  shall  try  to  be  presentable  and 
do  you  credit.  I'm  going  to  take  a  peep  at  the 
cooking." 

Left  alone,  M.  Mirotaine  heaved  a  deep  sigh, 
then  after  reflecting  for  some  time,  he  went  quickly 
down  into  the  cellar  carrying  a  pitcher  of  water  ; 
there  he  took  several  bottles  of  wine,  then,  choos- 
ing some  empty  bottles,  he  filled  them  two-thirds 
with  wine  and  filled  them  up  with  the  water  from 
his  pitcher.  Having  thus  baptized  four  bottles,  he 
went  up  with  them,  delighted  at  what  he  had  done. 
Later  he  took  two  bottles  of  bordeaux  Leoville,  of 
which  some  one  had  made  him  a  present,  and  pre- 
pared to  attenuate  them  in  the  same  way,  but  he 
heard  a  noise  ;  it  was  Aldegonde,  who  had  come  in 
search  of  him ;  she  snatched  the  two  bottles  of 
bordeaux  that  she  saw  on  the  table,  and  the  gen- 
erous wine  escaped  the  baptism  that  had  awaited  it. 

While  M.  Mirotaine  was  deciding  to  change  his 
clothes,  and  madame  was  carefully  adorning  her- 
self, Juliette,  who  had  been  dressed  for  a  long  time, 
and  would  almost  have  liked  to  make  herself  look 
ugly  so  as  not  to  please  this  gentleman  who  wanted 
to  marry  her,  but  who,  however,  was  still  pretty, 
because  when  a  woman  wishes  to  make  herself  look 
ugly  somehow  she  manages  so  as  not  to  do  so ; 
Juliette  was  engaged  in  laying  the  table,  for  the 
cook  was  too  busy  with  her  saucepans  to  have  time 
to  attend  to  that  matter.  The  young  girl  sighed 
as  she  placed  the  plates,  and  said  to  herself, — 


70  ADHEMAR 

"  If  this  was  the  feast  for  the  occasion  of  my 
betrothal  to  Lucien,  how  different  it  would  seem 
to  me  !  How  happy  I  should  be  !  but  they  haven't 
even  invited  him  to  dinner.  Poor  Lucien !  but 
yesterday  my  father  made  him  trot  to  the  Barriere 
du  Trone  at  Passy  and  never  even  gave  him  a  three 
sous  fare  for  a  seat  on  the  top  of  an  omnibus." 

Madame  Mirotaine  came  to  see  that  the  table  was 
laid  as  it  should  be  ;  she  held  in  her  hand  squares  of 
paper,  on  which  were  the  names  of  the  guests. 

"  It's  a  question  of  placing  them  intelligently," 
said  Aldegonde. 

"  What  do  you  want  done  with  those  squares  of 
paper,  madame  ?  " 

"  They  are  to  indicate  to  each  person  the  place 
he  is  to  occupy  at  table." 

"  Can  they  not  sit  where  they  like  ?  " 

"  No,  good  form  is  to  put  the  name  of  the  guest 
beforehand  on  his  plate ;  it's  more  convenient  to 
seat  them  thus." 

"  Then  I  beg  of  you,  madame,  don't  place  me 
beside  that  Italian  count." 

"  Why,  on  the  contrary,  Juliette,  you  must  be 
beside  him.  Since  he  is  coming  here  with  the  in- 
tention of  making  your  acquaintance,  he  must  be 
able  to  talk  with  you." 

"  You  know  very  well  I  don't  talk,  madame ; 
put  him  beside  you,  he  will  like  it  much  better." 

"  Why,  Juliette,  it  is  not  me  this  gentleman 
wishes  to  marry." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        71 

"  It  is  a  pity  that  it  isn't." 

"  What  a  child  you  are  !  All  I  can  do  is  to  put 
the  count  between  the  two  of  us  —  let's  see,  that 
will  be  on  my  left ;  on  my  right  I  must  put  the 
sugar-broker,  whom  Madame  Putiphar  asserts  to 
be  very  amiable.  After  him  whom  shall  I  put  ? 
It's  very  bothersome —  it  is  a  science  to  place  one's 
guests  well." 

"  Put  M.  Brid'oison." 

"  No  —  there  must  be  a  lady  beside  each  man, 
one  must  mix  the  sexes  as  much  as  possible.  Oh, 
Madame  Putiphar,  this  gentleman  knows  her,  he 
will  be  pleased  to  talk  with  her.  Then  —  good- 
ness, how  tiresome  it  is,  ah !  M.  Calle,  that's  it, 
M.  Calle,  then  Madame  Brid'oison  —  M.  Miro- 
taine —  Madame  Trichon  and  M.  Brid'oison  — 
there  !  that's  done  with  !  " 

"  But  that  only  makes  ten,  and  we  have  eleven 
covers.     You  have  forgotten  to  write  one." 

"  Pshaw  1  whom  have  I  forgotten  ?  " 

"  Artaban  —  little  Brid'oison." 

"  Yes,  that's  true  —  he's  not  a  very  pleasant 
neighbor,  that  little  boy  —  his  father  makes  him 
do  his  gymnastics,  and  he's  always  gesticulating  to 
show  his  suppleness  and  his  strength ;  he  kicks 
you  at  every  turn." 

"  Put  him  beside  me,  I  shan't  mind  him." 

"  No,  we  must  put  him  between  his  father  and 
Madame  Trichon,  the  latter  will  make  him  behave 
himself  and  keep  still.    This  time  people  are  well 


72  ADHEMAR 

distributed.  I'll  run  and  finish  dressing,  for  it  is 
already  after  four  —  and  you,  Juliette.'' 

"  I  am  ready,  madame  —  " 

"  But  your  hair  isn't  done  nicely  at  all,  and 
nothing  in  it  —  not  even  a  flower  !  " 

"  What  good  would  that  be  ?  " 

'*  What  do  you  mean  ?  What  good !  when  it's 
a  question  of  marrying  you — and  to  a  millionnaire 
count ! " 

"  You  know  well  that  Lucien  is  the  one  I  love." 

"  Well,  good  heavens !  love  your  Lucien  as  much 
as  you  please,  but  marry  the  count  —  that  is  all 
that  we  ask  of  you." 

Aldegonde  returned  to  finish  her  adornment, 
Juliette  went  back  to  her  room,  blessing  the  dealer 
in  toilet  articles ;  and  M.  Mirotaine,  who  had  com- 
pleted his  toilet,  then  came  into  the  dining-room 
and  walked  around  the  table,  carefully  examining 
all  that  was  on  it. 

"  What  a  table,  what  a  meal !  what  ceremony 

—  three  glasses  to  each  guest !  Do  they  want  to 
drink  three  times  running  ?  Ah,  there  are  cham- 
pagne glasses  for  the  champagne  —  how  lucky  it 
was  that  I  found  some  at  twenty-five  sous.  What's 
all  this  ?  radishes,  butter,  gherkins,  pickled  onions 

—  what  profusion  !  " 

Approaching  the  shell  dish  which  contained  the 
gherkins,  M.  Mirotaine  began  to  count  them. 

"Nine  —  ten  —  twelve  gherkins,  and  they  are 
very  large — there  are  too  many.  And  he  took  four 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        73 

of  the  gherkins  from  the  dish  and  put  them  in  his 
pocket,  saying,  "  There'll  be  quite  enough.  Let's 
look  at  the  pickled  onions,  there  are  too  many  of 
them,  also ! " 

He  took  a  fistful  of  the  onions  out  of  the  vine- 
gar and  thrust  them  also  into  the  pockets  of  his 
coat;  then  it  was  the  radishes'  turn.  From  them, 
as  there  were  a  good  many  in  the  dish,  he  took  two 
fistfuls,  which  went  to  join  the  onions  and  the  gher- 
kins. It  only  remained  for  him  to  visit  the  butter, 
he  had  paused  before  it  asking  himself  if  he  could 
put  it  aside  somewhere,  but  at  that  moment  the 
bell  rang  and  M.  Mirotaine  had  only  just  time 
to  lick  the  finger  with  which  he  had  touched  the 
butter. 

It  was  the  Brid'oison  family  who  arrived  first. 
M.  Brid'oison,  a  big,  dry  man,  with  a  foxy  face,  a 
little  softened  by  the  frequent  use  of  the  juice  of  the 
grape,  and  with  a  tone  that  was  still  doctoral  when 
he  was  not  under  its  influence.  Madame,  a  big 
yellow  woman,  almost  as  thin  as  her  husband,  a 
face  like  a  hatchet,  blear  eyes,  and  big  corkscrew 
ringlets  which  floated  on  to  her  shoulders  ;  then 
there  was  their  son  Artaban,  who  was  eight  years 
old, with  curly  hair, a  flat  nose,  a  long,  pointed  chin, 
an  impudent  expression,  hands  which  were  never 
clean  and  who  could  walk  on  his  head  with  his  legs 
in  the  air,  to  the  pride  and  delight  of  his  father. 

"  Here  we  are!"  said  M.  Brid'oison;  "We  came 
early,  but  I  don't  like  to  keep  any  one  waiting ; 


74  ADH£MAR 

there  are  people  who  say  it  is  good  form  to  be  late, 
but  I  think  it's  very  bad  form.  Good-day,  Miro- 
taine,  and  where  are  the  ladies  ?  " 

"  Still  dressing,  probably,  are  women  ever  fin- 
ished when  it's  a  matter  of  attiring  themselves  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  am  very  quickly  ready,"  said  Madame 
Brid'oison  ;  "  five  minutes  suffices  me." 

"  Yes,  I  put  my  wife  on  a  good  footing,  I  said 
to  her,  '  Egilde,  when  you  are  not  dressed  in  five 
minutes,  I  warn  you  I  shan't  wait  for  you,  I  shall 
start  without  you.'  Oh,  I  am  very  strict  as  to 
promptitude." 

"  At  first  that  made  me  very  unhappy,  and  one 
day — we  were  going  to  dine  in  town — Brid'oison 
shouted  to  me  *  Time's  up ! '  and  I  hadn't  put  on 
my  garters,  so  I  started  without  them  ;  but  it  em- 
barrassed me  all  along  the  road." 

"  Here  is  my  son  Artaban,  who's  a  perfect  Ariel 
at  gymnastics  already.  Artaban,  walk  on  your  head 
—  to  show  how  well  you  can  do  it!  " 

The  little  boy  immediately  precipitated  himself 
on  to  his  hands,  with  his  head  down  and  his  feet 
in  the  air,  and  thus  made  the  tour  of  the  drawing- 
room  ;  but  in  replacing  his  feet  on  the  floor  he 
knocked  against  the  pedestal  of  a  small  table  on 
which  they  had  placed,  beforehand,  the  cups  for  the 
coffee ;  the  shock  threw  two  of  them  on  to  the 
carpet,  where  they  broke.  M.  Mirotaine  uttered 
loud  exclamations. 

"  Devil  take  you  and  your  gymnastics  !     Here 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        75 

are  cups  broken  now.  What  an  idea  is  this,  to 
make  a  child  walk  on  his  head,  and  in  a  drawing- 
room,  too." 

"  By  Jove  !  don't  get  so  angry  about  two  cups, 
and  here's  one  of  them  only  has  the  handle 
broken." 

"It  is  of  no  further  use,  however." 

"  Well,  I'll  give  you  two  others." 

"  Yes,  people  always  say  that,  but  they  never 
do  replace  anything.  Are  you  going  to  put  your 
son  in  the  circus  that  you  make  him  do  feats  of 
strength  ? " 

"  No,  I  shall  make  an  advocate  of  him." 

"  And  do  you  imagine  that  he  will  plead  walk- 
ing on  his  hands  ?  " 

"My  dear  fellow,  gymnastics  are  good  in  every- 
thing, in  all  positions.  An  advocate  might  have  to 
demonstrate  how  a  thief  undertook  to  introduce 
himself  into  a  window  —  he  would  come  out  of  it 
ill  if  he  did  not  understand  gymnastics." 

The  ladies  came  into  the  drawing-room  accom- 
panied by  Madame  Trichon. 

"  What  was  the  matter  ?  "  said  Aldegonde,  "  I 
heard  my  husband  shouting." 

"  Nothing,  fair  lady,  a  mere  trifle." 

"  His  son  breaks  two  pretty  cups  in  walking  on 
his  head  and  he  calls  that  nothing." 

"  Does  your  son  walk  on  his  head?  oh,  I  should 
have  liked  to  see  that !  " 

"  He  can  do  it  again  !  " 


76  ADH£mAR 

"  No,  no  !  I  don't  want  him  to  begin  again,  that 
he  may  finish  up  the  tea  service." 

"Well,  something  else — to  show  you  how  strong 
the  little  one  is  already.  Artaban,  lift  up  a  chair 
with  your  arm  extended.  That  won't  endanger  the 
cups,  Mirotaine.     Come  Artaban,  choose  a  chair." 

The  little  boy  took  one  of  the  drawing-room 
chairs,  did  not  positively  lift  it  with  extended  arm, 
but  held  it  in  the  air  for  some  time,  then  suddenly 
feeling  tired,  instead  of  replacing  the  chair  on  the 
ground,  he  sent  it  tumbling  over  his  shoulder,  and 
the  rungs  struck  Madam  Trichon  in  the  face,  that 
lady  being  behind  M.  Artaban. 

"  Oh,  I'm  wounded,  my  nose  is  taken  off!"  cried 
the  lady,  putting  her  hand  to  her  face. 

"  Madame,  that  is  nothing,"  said  M.  Brid'oison, 
"  your  nose  is  still  in  it's  place  —  a  simple  graze, 
that  is  all." 

"  Water  !  —  cold  water  —  I  beg  of  you  —  that 
I  may  bathe  my  face  !  " 

"  Very  nice  indeed,  your  son's  gymnastics  —  I 
compliment  you  on  them,"  said  M.  Mirotaine ; 
**  I  only  hope  he  won't  show  us  any  more  of  them." 

"  That  was  because  you  bothered  him.  But  for 
that  he  would  have  put  his  chair  down  in  front  of 
him.  But  all  the  same  he  will  be  a  fine  strong 
fellow.  I  am  very  pleased  I  gave  him  the  name  of 
Artaban — he  will  have  reason  to  be  proud  of  it." 

Then  came  Madame  Putiphar,  then  M.  Calle. 
The  latter  was  a  young  man  of  twenty-five,  who 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        77 

resembled  one  of  those  wax  figures  which  hair- 
dressers put  in  their  windows  ;  his  hair  was  combed 
like  a  lemonade  boy's,  his  chestnut  locks  divided  by 
a  parting  which  came  from  the  back  of  his  neck  ;  he 
looked  extremely  stupid,  and  his  language  was  in 
accord  with  the  expression  of  his  face ;  he  always 
looked  astonished,  always  came  sidewise  into  a 
room,  and  never  knew  what  to  do  with  his  hat. 

This  young  man  cast  sheep's  eyes  at  Aldegonde 
and  turned  scarlet  on  shaking  hands  with  M.  Miro- 
taine.  Madame  hastened  to  put  the  gentleman  at 
his  ease  by  disembarrassing  him  of  his  hat.  M. 
Calle  bowed  even  to  little  Artaban,  who  responded 
to  this  courtesy  by  straddling  his  legs  as  far  apart 
as  he  possibly  could.  As  to  Madame  Putiphar,  she 
was  very  much  at  her  ease  at  the  Mirotaines*  and, 
after  dropping  a  curtsey,  said  hastily, — 

"  They're  not  come  yet,  then  ?  " 

"  No,  not  yet." 

"  Oh,  it  is  only  half-past  five  and  I  told  them 
you  didn't  dine  till  six  —  they  won't  be  late." 

"  You're  expecting  some  one  else,  then  ? "  asked 
M.  Brid'oison  of  the  master  of  the  house. 

"  Yes,  two  gentlemen  —  whom  I  do  not  know." 

"  What !  you  are  giving  a  dinner  to  people  you 
don't  know  ? " 

"  It  is  for  a  matter  —  a  family  aflfair." 

"  Besides,  I  know  these  gentlemen,"  resumed 
Madame  Putiphar,  "  and  I  will  answer  for  them. 
First,  there  is  M.  Dodichet,  a  sugar-broker,  a  young 


78  ADHfiMAR 

man  of  the  highest  breeding ;  then  comes  his  in- 
timate friend,  the  Count  of  Miflores,  an  Italian  as 
rich  as  an  English  lord,  who  is  looking  for  a  young 
lady  to  marry,  and  who  does  not  want  a  dowry." 

The  toilet  merchant  added  in  a  whisper  and  taking 
care  to  move  farther  away  from  Juliette,  "  We  must 
not  seem  to  be  aware  of  the  count's  intentions,  for 
that  will  displease  him.  He  thinks  we  are  ignorant 
of  them,  and  that  we've  only  invited  him  because 
he  is  M.  Dodichet's  friend.  In  this  way,  you  see,  he 
can  talk  to  Juliette  without  embarrassment." 

"  Very  well  —  but  all  the  same,  you  did  well  to 
warn  us.  I  should  like  a  little  absinthe,  it  gives 
one  an  appetite,"  said  Brid'oison. 

"  My  dear  fellow,  if  you  want  absinthe,  there's  a 
cafe  at  the  corner  of  the  street,  go  and  get  some." 

"  What,  haven't  you  any  here  ^  " 

"Fie  for  shame!  absinthe  —  why  it's  poison." 

"  Yes,  if  you  drink  it  neat ;  but  with  water  —  " 

M.  Mirotaine  tapped  angrily  with  his  foot  and 
exclaimed, — 

"  Pest  take  Brid'oison  with  his  absinthe.  The  idea 
of  his  asking  for  it.     M.  Calle,  do  you  drink  it?  " 

"  Why  the  idea !  I've  never  tasted  it  in  my  life." 

"  Good  enough  !  that  proves  that  you've  a  good 
stomach  and  need  nothing  to  aid  your  digestion." 


CHAPTER  VI 

A  Miscellaneous  Dinner  Party 

At  five  minutes  to  six  the  bell  rang  loudly. 
"  Here  are  the  gentlemen,"  said  the  dealer  in 
toilet  articles. 

Immediately  each  one  sought  to  assume  a  dig- 
nity befitting  the  circumstances.  Aldegonde  as- 
sumed her  most  charming  and  amiable  expression, 
M.  Mirotaine  did  the  best  he  could  towards 
smiling,  Madame  Trichon  used  her  handkerchief, 
the  others  looked  curious ;  Juliette  alone  did  not 
make  the  slightest  grimace.  She  was  sad ;  she 
hoped  they  would  not  come 

Goth  announced :  "  M.  de  Comte  Mimiflores  and 
M.  Beaubrochet."  Maids  nearly  always  have  a  talent 
for  mispronouncing  the  names  that  are  given  them. 
Dodichet  came  in  as  cavalierly  as  if  he  were  enter- 
ing an  inn  ;  he  held  by  the  hand  his  intimate  friend. 
The  latter  was  a  gentleman  of  thirty-six,  of  medium 
height,  fat  rather  than  thin,  who  tried  to  hide  his 
nullity  and  stupidity  under  an  imposing  manner  ; 
he  had  a  meaningless  face,  but  he  tried  to  put  so 
much  expression  into  his  eyes  that  they  were  almost 
haggard.  His  dress  was  irreproachable  and  even 
fastidious,  but  he  wore  his  clothes  very  badly,  and 

19 


8o  ADHEMAR 

carried  himself  in  such  a  fashion  as  to  make  one  be- 
lieve that  he  was  embarrassed  in  his  surroundings. 

Dodichet  bowed  on  all  sides,  almost  laughing. 
He  took  M.  Mirotaine's  hand  and  shook  it  warmly 
before  the  latter  had  had  time  to  return  his  bow, 
and  exclaimed, — 

"  Delighted  to  make  your  acquaintance,  M.  Miro- 
taine,  I  have  long  desired  to  do  so ;  an  occasion 
presented  itself  at  last,  and  I  seized  it.  We  shall 
do  some  business  together,  M.  Miroton,  pardon  me, 
Mirotaine —  I'm  as  bad  as  the  maids  at  names." 

"  Monsieur  —  you  are  assuredly — " 

"  Allow  me  to  present  my  intimate  friend,  the 
Count  Miflores,  a  rich  Italian,  who  can  command 
me  whenever  it  is  necessary,"  and  Dodichet  added 
in  a  whisper,  "  You  know,  he  wants  to  marry 
—  and  he's  not  looking  for  any  dowry." 

"  Yes,  monsieur,  so  they  told  me." 

"  Hush  1  enough  said !  we  mustn't  look  as 
though  we  were  talking  of  it.  Come,  Miflores,  let 
me  present  you  to  these  ladies  —  you  are  timid, 
but  you  mustn't  let  that  hinder  you  from  rendering 
to  the  fair  sex  all  the  homage  that  is  their  due." 

Dodichet's  assurance,  his  gabble,  and  the  specious 
phrases  he  uttered  had  their  customary  ejffect  on 
people  who  had  little  or  no  wit;  everybody  thought 
him  charming,  especially  Juliette,  to  whom  he  had 
whispered,  as  he  presented  Miflores  to  her, — 

"  Don't  be  uneasy,  he  won't  marry  you.  I'm 
one  of  Lucien's  friends.'* 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK         8i 

A  joyful  exclamation  escaped  the  young  girl. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ? "  demanded  Aldegonde. 

"  Nothing,"  said  Dodichet,  "  my  foot  acciden- 
tally came  against  mademoiselle's.  I  haven't  hurt 
you,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  No,  monsieur,  you  have  done  me  no  harm." 

"  Then  all  is  for  the  best,  as  Voltaire  says  in 
'  Candide  '  —  Is  it  in  *  Candide  ? '  by  Jove,  I'm 
not  sure ;  I  have  read  so  many  things  during  my 
life  that  I  get  them  all  mixed  up,  I  confuse  the 
authors.  Lately  some  one  asked  me  who  wrote 
the  '  Mariage  de  Figaro '  and  I  answered,  *  M.  d'En- 
nery  '  —  I  was  mistaken." 

"  Here's  my  friend  Brid'oison,  who  bears  the 
same  name  as  one  of  the  personages  in  that  play," 
said  M.  Mirotaine. 

"  Ah,  monsieur  is  called  Brid'oison,  a  fine  name, 
a  pretty  name,  recalling  a  very  witty  character." 

"  I  try  to  be  worthy  of  my  name,"  said  that  gen- 
tleman, with  dignity. 

"  You  are  quite  capable  of  it,  monsieur.  Do 
you  stammer,  monsieur .?  " 

"  No,  really,  I  can't  say  I  do." 

"  That  is  a  pity,  but  it  may  come  later." 

"  And  here  is  my  son  Artaban,  who  is  already 
very  strong  at  gymnastics." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  well,  that  doesn't  astonish  me,  this 
little  boy's  figure  has  something  of  Hercules." 

"  You  think  so?  "  and  M.  Brid'oison,  delighted, 
patted  his  son's  cheek,  and  said, — 


82  ADHEMAR 

"  Do  you  understand  ?  you  have  something  of 
Hercules  ? " 

"  What,  papa  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  —  but  you  have  something." 

The  pretended  suitor  held  himself  very  stiffly  in 
the  middle  of  the  room,  not  knowing  what  expres- 
sion to  put  on,  but  scratching  his  nose  often,  so  as 
to  do  something.  He  had  not  yet  said  a  word  and 
contented  himself  with  bowing. 

"  M.  le  Count  says  nothing,"  murmured  Ma- 
dame Putiphar,  approaching  Dodichet.  "Why 
doesn't  he  open  his  mouth  ?  " 

"  Be  easy  about  that,  he'll  open  it  at  dinner." 

"  He  looks  proud." 

"  That'll  all  pass  offat  dinner." 

"Ask  him  what  he  thinks  of  Juliette." 

"  He  thinks  she's  charming ;  he  told  me  so  as 
we  came  in." 

"  How  did  he  know  it  was  she  ?  " 

"That's  good,  mischief!  is  there  any  other 
young  girl  here  ?  All  the  other  women  are  veterans 
—  I  mean  to  say,  they've  made  their  market." 

Goth  came  to  announce  that  dinner  was  served, 
and  M.  Miflores  then  exclaimed, — 

"  So  much  the  better  !  " 

"  It  seems  this  gentlemen  is  hungry,"  said 
M.  Mirotaine,  dryly. 

"  I  am  quite  of  his  opinion,"  said  M.  Brid'oison. 

Dodichet  urged  his  friend  to  go  and  offer  his 
arm  to  the  mistress  of  the  house,  and  gave  his  own 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        83 

to  Juliette  ;  on  the  way  to  the  dining-room  he  man- 
aged to  slip  a  few  words  into  her  ear  that  gave  an 
expression  of  good-humor  to  her  face. 

They  placed  themselves,  Madame  Trichon  grum- 
bled and  pouted  on  seeing  that  they  had  seated  her 
by  little  Artaban.  M.  Brid'oison,  vexed  that  any 
one  should  fear  to  be  near  his  son,  wished  to  change 
his  place.  But  Aldegonde  opposed  this  ;  Madame 
Trichon  was  appeased.  Then  came  the  soup,  but 
as  she  served  it,  Aldegonde  looked  at  the  relishes 
placed  on  the  table  and  questioned  her  maid. 

"  Goth,  did  you  not  put  all  the  gherkins  and 
pickled  onions  I  gave  you  into  the  dishes  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  madame,  I  put  them  all." 

"  There  were  a  good  many  more  than  that,  I 
thought.      It  is  singular." 

"  Do  you  think  I  ate  them,  madame  ?  You 
know  I  never  touch  anything  —  all  the  more  be- 
cause everything  is  locked  up  here." 

"  That's  enough  !   that's  enough  !  " 

"  This  soup  is  delicious,"  cried  young  Calle,  who 
had  been  given  his  part  and  knew  that  he  must  find 
everything  excellent. 

"  And  my  radishes,  too,"  muttered  Aldegonde, 
"oh,  my  servant  must  have  taken  them." 

"  We  must  all  live,"  said  Dodichet,  "and  I  ask 
you  for  something  to  drink." 

When  he  had  drunk,  Dodichet  made  a  slight 
grimace. 

"  Excellent  burgundy  1 "  cried  Calle. 


84  ADHEMAR 

"  But  terribly  weak,"  answered  Dodlchet.  "  But 
perhaps  it's  a  bottle  that  was  ill-corked." 

M.  Miflores  ate,  drank,  and  still  said  nothing. 
However,  Juliette,  whom  Dodichet's  confidences 
had  deprived  of  all  fear,  sometimes  spoke  to  this 
gentleman  in  offering  him  something  that  was  being 
served ;  and  the  pretended  count  bowed  and  ac- 
cepted what  was  presented  to  him,  but  he  did  not 
speak. 

"  Your  friend  is  very  silent,"  said  Aldegonde  to 
Dodichet ;  "  he  hasn't  said  a  word  to  my  step- 
daughter, although  the  latter  has  shown  herself 
very  amiable  to  him,  which  surprises  me  a  good 
deal,  I  must  confess  to  you." 

"  I  really  think  he  will  speak  at  dessert."  Dodi- 
chet leaned  over  and  poked  his  friend  in  the  back, 
saying  to  him, — 

"  Well,  Miflores,  you  say  nothing  to  your  neigh- 
bors —  they  are  astonished  at  your  silence." 

"  I  do  not  like  to  talk  while  I  am  eating,"  an- 
swered that  gentlemen,  who,  in  fact,  had  his  mouth 
full. 

"  What  exquisite  fish !  "  cried  Calle,  who  had 
been  served  with  pike. 

"  It  is  a  pity  it  has  so  many  small  bones,"  said 
Dodichet. 

Madame  Brid'oison  began  at  that  moment  to 
cough  as  though  she  was  strangling. 

"  Come,  there's  my  wife  has  swallowed  a  fish 
bone,"  said  Brid'oison. 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        85 

But  Egilde  made  a  sign  that  it  was  not  that 
which  had  made  her  cough  but  only  one  of  her 
ringlets  that  had  got  into  her  mouth. 

"  Then,  I  shall  say  no  more  about  it.  What  a 
mania  women  have  for  wearing  their  hair  long." 

M.  Mirotaine  passed  his  time  in  offering  water 
to  every  one.  M.  Calle  was  the  only  one  of  the 
men  who  accepted  it, —  and  the  host  looked  at  him 
in  a  very  friendly  manner.  Young  Artaban,  who 
up  to  this  had  kept  quiet  enough,  now  began  to 
toss  his  knife  and  fork  in  the  air,  to  the  great  dis- 
pleasure of  Madame  Trichon,  who  said  to  him, — 

"  Little  one,  you  should  not  conduct  yourself 
thus  in  company ;  you  should  keep  still  at  the 
table,  and  not  play  with  the  knives  and  forks." 

M.  Brid'oison,  who  admired  his  son's  skill,  an- 
swered,— 

"  Madame,  Artaban  is  not  playing,  he  is  now 
juggling  like  the  Indians  —  they  call  that  juggling. 
The  Indians  have  balls  which  they  toss  in  the  air 
with  great  dexterity;  in  default  of  balls,  Artaban 
uses  his  knife  and  fork  —  it  is  more  difficult  and 
dangerous,  but  don't  be  afraid,  Artaban  is  too  adroit 
to  hurt  himself." 

"  No,  but  he  will  hurt  me  ;  he'll  send  his  fork 
into  my  face,  and  I  have  had  quite  enough  of  that 
with  the  chair." 

"  Madame,  I  will  answer  for  my  son.  He's  as 
active  as  a  monkey." 

M.  Brid'oison  had  hardly  finished  these  words. 


86  ADHEMAR 

when  a  fork  launched  by  Artaban  struck  Madame 
Trichon's  chin  right  over  her  teeth.  The  lady 
uttered  a  loud  cry,  and  rose  angrily,  saying, — 

"  It's  frightful,  it's  shameful !  He's  bound  to  dis- 
figure me.  Let  them  put  me  at  a  little  table,  but 
I  will  stay  no  longer  by  this  little  scamp." 

M.  Brid'oison  became  scarlet  on  hearing  his  son 
called  a  scamp ;  he  mumbled  several  words  between 
his  teeth,  which  happily  were  covered  by  the  crash 
of  several  plates  which  the  maid  dropped  at  that 
moment,  to  M.  Mirotaine's  despair.  However,  at 
a  sign  from  Aldegonde,  M.  Calle  rose,  gave  his 
place  to  Madame  Trichon  and  took  hers.  Then 
quietwas  restored,  although  M.  Brid'oison  muttered 
again, — 

"  Scamp !  to  call  my  son  Artaban  a  scamp  !  if 
that  lady  was  a  man  she  would  have  to  give  me 
satisfaction  for  that." 

The  two  bottles  of  bordeaux  were  brought  in, 
and  Dodichet  uttered  an  exclamation  of  joy  when 
he  had  tasted  it. 

"  Good  enough  !  that's  what  you  may  call  wine 
and  it  is  delicious  ;  an  intoxicating  bouquet !  " 

"Will  you  have  some  water?"  said  M.  Miro- 
taine,  offering  the  water  bottle. 

"  Water  with  such  wine  as  that!  Why,  it  would 
be  profanation  !  I  should  hope  no  one  will  be 
ill-advised  enough  to  spoil  that  wine  with  water. 
Miflores,  my  dear  count,  taste  this  wine — that  will 
make  you  eloquent.'* 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK         87 

"  If  that,  or  anything  else,  renders  the  gentleman 
eloquent  I  shall  be  much  astonished,"  whispered 
M.  Brid'oison  to  Calle,  who  was  ogling  Alde- 
gonde,  who  was  watching  Miflores,  who  was  admir- 
ing his  full  glass. 

"  How  they  are  eating!  how  they  are  drinking!" 
said  M.  Mirotaine  to  himself,  stifling  a  sigh;  "but 
I  don't  see  that  this  asserted  suitor  seeks  to  make 
my  daughter's  acquaintance ;  on  the  other  hand, 
this  sugar-broker  is  quite  chatty — he  seems  to  me 
rather  a  humbug.  Good  God,  if  I  should  be  let 
in  for  my  dinner." 

Dodichet  offered  bordeaux,  but  he  was  always 
careful  to  help  himself  first.  M.  Miflores  managed 
to  say, — 

"  Yes,  this  is  really  good  wine." 

Calle  went  further  than  any  of  them  and  said, — 

"  This  wine  is  nectar  !  " 

The  two  bottles  were  soon  empty. 

"  Monsieur  Mirotaine,  give  us  some  more  of  it," 
said  Dodichet;  "you  see  how  we  appreciate  it." 

"  I  have  no  more  of  it,"  answered  M.  Miro- 
taine ;  "  those  were  my  last  two  bottles." 

"  Oh,  what  ill-luck  !  " 

"  But  you  will  have  some  champagne." 

"  If  it's  as  good  as  the  bordeaux,  it  will  be 
ambrosia." 

The  champagne  came  at  the  same  time  as  a 
cream,  which  Goth  placed  on  the  table  proudly. 

"  Hurrah  for  sweet  dishes  !  "  said  Dodichet. 


88  ADHEMAR 

"  It  is  a  vanilla  cream,"  said  Aldegonde ;  and 
Miflores  uttered  a  second  exclamation, — 

"  So  much  the  better  !  " 

"  He  has  spoken,"  said  Madame  Putiphar. 

"  Yes,  but  not  to  Juliette." 

"That  will  no  doubt  come  with  the  champagne." 

Aldegonde  served  some  cream  to  everyone  and 
each  one  hastened  to  take  a  mouthful,  but  almost 
immediately  exclamations  came  from  every  side, — 

"Why,  what  is  the  matter  with  this  ?" 

"  What  a  singular  taste." 

"  By  Jove,  that's  horrid  !  " 

"  In  the  first  place  it  isn't  sweet  at  all !  " 

"  If  it  were  only  that  —  but  this  taste  —  this 
odor.  I  know  the  taste,  but  I  can't  remember 
what  it  is." 

Aldegonde  called  her  cook,  who  came  immedi- 
ately. 

"  Goth,  what  have  you  put  in  your  cream?  it  has 
the  most  extraordinary  flavor  !  " 

"  Madame,  I  made  it  as  it  is  always  made,  I  put 
some  milk,  yolks  of  eggs,  a  little  vanilla,  for  I  had 
hardly  any  to  put." 

"And  some  sugar — " 

"  Yes,  the  sugar  candy  that  monsieur  gave  me, 
which  was  wrapped  up  in  paper ;  I  put  every  bit 
of  it." 

"Oh,  I  know  what  it  smells  of  now,"  exclaimed 
Dodichet;  "it  is  camphor — your  cream  is  cam- 
phorated." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        89 

"What  does  this  mean,  M.  Mirotaine?"  said 
Aldegonde,  looking  severely  at  her  husband ;  "  did 
you  give  Goth  camphor  instead  of  sugar  ?  " 

"Then  I  must  have  mistaken  the  package,"  said 
Mirotaine,  a  little  confused ;  "  I  had,  it  is  true,  a 
few  lumps  of  camphor  in  my  desk  —  why,  I  must 
have  got  it  mixed  with  the  sugar." 

"  There  is  no  further  doubt,  monsieur ;  it  was 
camphor  you  gave  the  maid." 

"  Fortunately  we  know  that  it  is  innocuous,"  said 
Dodichet.  "  Come,  open  the  champagne,  that  will 
make  us  forget  the  camphor." 

Each  guest  hastened  to  tender  his  champagne 
glass ;  the  champagne  foamed,  but  not  long,  and 
when  everyone  had  drunk  there  was  a  deep  silence ; 
a  very  disagreable  silence  under  such  circumstances, 
and  which,  as  at  the  theatre,  was  equivalent  to 
hissing.  At  length,  Dodichet,  who  was  always  frank 
in  his  speech,  exclaimed, — 

"  Confound  it !  this  champagne  is  not  nearly  so 
good  as  your  bordeaux!  M.  Mirotaine,  the  one 
who  sold  it  to  you  has  let  you  in !  " 

"  What !  let  me  in  !    It's  cliquot,  it's  creaming." 

"That  creaming — as  much  as  I'm  dancing. 
I  demand  the  address  of  the  one  who  furnished  it 
to  you  —  that  I  may  not  buy  any  of  him." 

The  champagne  having  proved  a  complete  fail- 
ure, and  Aldegonde  having  no  other  wine  to  offer, 
the  dessert  was  nipped  in  the  bud,  and  they  pres- 
ently adjourned  to  the  drawing-room  and  coffee. 


90  ADHEMAR 

The  guests  had  none  of  that  conviviality  which 
almost  always  accompanies  the  rising  from  table ; 
it  is  true  that  they  had  had  nothing  to  go  to  their 
heads;  the  vin-ordinaire  was  attenuated,  the  cham- 
pagne was  Uke  vinegar  and  undrinkable;  the  bor- 
deaux alone  was  successful,  but  two  bottles  is  very 
little  for  eleven  persons,  above  all  when  one  of  them 
monopolizes  half  of  it  for  his  own  share. 

Madame  Trichon  was  still  angry  at  having  re- 
ceived a  fork  in  her  chin  and  a  chair  on  her  head. 
M.  Brid'oison  was  sulky  because  she  had  called  his 
son  a  scamp  ;  his  wife  was  still  swallowing  her  hair; 
Madame  Putiphar  and  Aldegonde  were  uneasy  at 
the  silence  which  the  ItaHan  count  maintained  to- 
wards Juliette  ;  the  latter  alone  was  in  a  delightful 
humor  and  was  very  well  seconded  by  Dodichet, 
who  sometimes  hid  his  face  to  laugh  as  he  looked 
at  Miflores. 

The  coifee  was  brought,  Aldegonde  was  filling 
their  cups,  when  M.  Brid'oison  offered  his  snuff- 
box to  M.  Mirotaine,  saying, — 

"  Try  that,  and  tell  me  how  you  like  it." 

"  Why,  you  know  very  well  I  don't  use  it." 

"  This  snuff  deserves  that  you  should  derogate 
from  your  custom." 

M.  Mirotaine  took  a  pinch  of  snuff  and  thrust 
it  into  his  nose,  making  a  sign  of  approbation.  But 
presently  the  odorous  powder  produced  its  custom- 
ary effect  on  one  who  was  not  in  the  habit  of  using 
it;  two  successive  sneezes  escaped  M.  Mirotaine, 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        91 

and  the  second  was  so  grave  In  its  effects  that  that 
gentleman  quickly  took  out  his  handkerchief  to 
blow  his  nose.  As  he  pulled  it  precipitately  from 
his  pocket,  he  brought  with  it  a  shower  of  gher- 
kins, radishes  and  small  pickled  onions. 

Everyone  was  stupefied  and  looked  with  aston- 
ishment at  the  rehshes  which  covered  the  carpet  and 
furniture.  Madame  Trichon  alone  uttered  a  dole- 
ful exclamation ;  that  lady,  who  was  indeed  un- 
lucky, had  been  hit  in  the  eye  with  a  pickled  onion, 
and  the  vinegar  from  it  made  the  delicate  organ 
in  which  it  had  lodged  smart  sharply. 

"  What,  monsieur,  you  put  a  part  of  the  relishes 
in  your  pocket?"  said  Aldegonde.  "And  I  sus- 
pected poor  Goth !  For  shame,  monsieur,  for  shame 
—  it  is  unpardonable  !  " 

Instead  of  begging  his  wife's  pardon,  M.  Miro- 
taine  went  down  on  all  fours  to  pick  up  the  vege- 
tables he  had  involuntarily  released  from  his  coat 
pocket.  As  to  Madame  Trichon,  she  went  to  cry 
in  a  corner,  saying  that  they  had  resolved  to  dis- 
figure her. 

While  taking  his  coffee,  Dodichct  said  to  his 
friend, — 

"  Look  here,  Miflores,  talk  a  bit ;  try  to  do  the 
amiable  with  these  ladies.  You  look  like  an  oyster, 
my  dear  fellow." 

"  I  did  not  ask  you  to  come  here,  but  you  in- 
sisted on  my  accompanying  you,  saying  that  would 
inspire  the  master  of  the  house  with  confidence 


92  adh£mar 

toward  you  and  that  you  hoped  to  do  very  big  busi- 
ness with  him." 

"  That's  true,  that's  very  correct — and  that  was 
why  I  wanted  you  to  pass  for  an  ItaHan  count." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  the  same  to  me." 

"  A  lie  more  or  less,  what  does  it  matter  ?  and 
you  lie  already  when  you  call  yourself  Miflores ; 
your  name  is  Seringat;  a  pretty  name,  for  that 
matter,  which  reminds  one  of  a  canary,'  a  flower,* 
and  a  syringe.^     Miflores  is  not  your  name." 

"  It  was  my  mother's  name  and  I  can  use  it." 

"  In  fact,  you  don't  want  any  one  to  know  your 
real  name  or  what  has  happened  to  you,  isn't  that 
it?" 

"  Oh,  no —  never  !  it  is  rather  —  I  don't  know 
why." 

"As  for  me,  I  knew  all  along  what  was  your 
motive  —  " 

"  Yes,  but  you  promised  to  keep  my  secret,  my 
dear  fellow ! " 

"Yes,  but  on  condition  that  you  would  make 
yourself  pleasant  —  that  you  would  render  me  all 
the  services  I  asked  of  you." 

"  That  is  understood.  Do  you  need  any  money ; 
you  have  only  to  speak." 

"  Not  now  —  but  try  to  be  amiable  here,  cheer- 
ful, gallant  —  that's  all  I  ask  of  you." 

"  I'll  try  immediately." 

'  Serin:  French  for  canary,  and  slang  for  simpleton,  muff,  etc.  ^Seringa  ; 
syringa.      3  Seringue  :  a  squirt  or  syringe. 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        93 

And  this  gentleman  at  once  approached  the  mis- 
tress of  the  house,  took  her  hand,  and  kissed  it 
several  times. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  does  he  expect  to  marry 
my  wife?"  said  M.  Mirotaine  to  himself. 

But  Aldegonde  did  not  find  this  pantomime  dis- 
agreeable ;  she  smiled  at  Miflores ;  she  believed 
that  he  was  going  to  ask  her  for  her  stepdaughter's 
hand ;  the  gentleman,  however,  only  bowed  and 
remarked, — 

"  Here's  another  gherkin  under  the  sofa." 

M.  Calle  hastened  to  go  and  pick  up  the  gher- 
kin and  take  it  to  M.  Mirotaine,  who  put  it  back 
in  his  pocket  and  said  to  Calle, — 

"Nothing  escapes  you,  you'll  make  your  way." 

Dodichet  tried  to  inspire  the  company  with  a  lit- 
tle geniality  and  cheerfulness,  and  to  that  end  he 
frequently  had  recourse  to  the  brandy,  the  only 
liqueur  which  they  had  to  offer  to  the  guests ;  he 
helped  himself  to  some  small  glasses  and  did  not 
even  offer  it  to  any  one  else.  M.  Mirotaine  saw 
this  with  vexation,  and  muttered, — 

"  This  gentleman  abuses  my  brandy ;  this  is  the 
third  time  he's  been  to  it — he  drinks  as  though 
he  were  in  his  own  house.  Such  manners  are  very 
low.  I'll  try  to  get  the  decanter  away  without  my 
wife  seeing  me." 

The  arrival  of  several  persons  invited  for  the 
evening  permitted  M.  Mirotaine  to  put  his  plan 
into  execution. 


94  ADHEMAR 

Goth  announced  "  Mesdames  Boulard "  and 
three  ladies  came  in,  very  middle-aged,  dressed 
very  fashionably,  with  Httle  turban  hats  that  hardly 
covered  the  tops  of  their  heads,  which  were  adorned 
with  chignons  as  big  as  muffs.  Their  crinolines 
were  of  such  a  size  that  their  bodies  looked  as 
though  they  were  placed  on  balloons,  and  the  door 
of  the  drawing-room  was  hardly  wide  enough  to 
admit  them. 

At  sight  of  this  trio,  who  took  up  so  much  room, 
Dodichet  said  to  Brid'oison, — 

"Your  little  Artaban  should  do  some  gymnas- 
tics on  these  balloons  and  flatten  them  a  bit." 

"  You  are  right,  the  women  are  becoming  ridicu- 
lous—  soon  one  of  them  will  fill  a  drawing-room. 
Look  at  my  wife,  what  a  difference,  I  have  forbid- 
den her  to  wear  crinoline  ;  so  she  can  go  anywhere. 
She's  a  regular  knitting-needle." 

Following  the  ladies  Boulard  came  the  brothers 
Bridoux  ;  these  latter  had  not  the  slightest  preten- 
sion to  taking  up  much  space.  They  came  in, 
using  their  handkerchiefs  and  bowing  as  they  still 
held  their  noses,  and,  when  they  decided  to  release 
the  latter,  showing  stupid  insignificant  faces  such 
as  one  sees  everywhere  and  which  do  not  tempt 
people  to  converse  with  their  owners. 

One  of  the  brothers  Bridoux  went  to  hide  be- 
hind one  of  the  Boulard  ladies*  balloons.  The 
second  exclaimed, — 

"  How's  this  ?    Where's  that  dear  Mirotaine  .? " 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        95 

Mirotaine,  dear  fellow,  had  gone  to  place  the 
brandy  in  safe  keeping.  But  Madame  Putiphar 
took  Dodichet  aside  and  said  to  him, — 

"  Well,  monsieur,  and  how  is  our  little  affair 
going.  What  does  the  count  think  of  our  Juliette  ? 
He  hasn't  breathed  a  single  word  to  her.  What 
does  that  mean  ?  does  she  not  please  him  ?  We 
must  know  where  we  stand,  however  —  " 

"Reassure  yourself,  my  lady  of  the  toilet,  my 
friend  is  delighted,  charmed  with  the  young  per- 
son ;  he  finds  her  altogether  to  his  taste  and  full  of 
wit. 

"  How  can  he  judge  of  her  wit  ?  he  has  not 
spoken  to  her  !  " 

"  No,  but  he  has  heard  her  speak,  which  comes 
to  the  same  thing.  Besides,  several  times  she  passed 
a  plate  to  him  saying,  *  Will  you  have  some  of  this, 
monsieur  ? '  And  the  manner  in  which  she  said  these 
simple  words  gave  him  some  idea  of  her  worth." 

"  Well,  then,  when  is  your  count  coming  to  ask 
for  her  ^  " 

"  Tomorrow,  probably  ;  you  must  comprehend 
perfectly  that  he  can't  do  it  tonight  before  every- 
body." 

"  Then  I  can  explain  that  to  M.  Mirotaine,  and 
begin  to  think  about  the  basket." 

"  That  is  to  say,  you  must  begin  to  think  about 
it  as  soon  as  possible,  and  make  us  a  bride's  bas- 
ket worthy  of  a  sultan." 

The  tradeswoman  went  off  delighted,  and  was 


96  ADHfiMAR 

about  to  go  and  repeat  this  conversation  to  Alde- 
gonde,  when  M.  Dubotte  and  his  spouse  were 
announced. 

Madame  Eleonore  Dubotte  was  a  little  woman 
of  twenty-five,  fair-haired,  white-skinned,  plump, 
with  a  round,  very  fresh  face,  and  very  soft  blue 
eyes  which  she  kept  almost  constantly  on  her  hus- 
band: you  will  remember  the  latter  had  complained 
that  his  wife  was  too  fond  of  him. 

Dubotte  went  to  pay  his  compliments  to  Alde- 
gonde  ;  but  he  had  some  trouble  in  making  his 
wife  let  go  of  his  arm.  Then  he  went  to  shake 
hands  with  Mirotaine,  who  reappeared  without  his 
decanter  and  showed  that  he  was  highly  flattered 
that  Dubotte  should  have  accepted  his  invitation. 
But  on  seeing  Dubotte  come  in  Dodichet  assumed 
a  singular  expression  of  countenance,  and  mut- 
tered,— 

"Devil  take  it!  here  is  a  meeting  I  had  not 
expected  —  it  might  have  been  worse,  however. 
Why,  Phoebus  has  a  very  pretty  little  wife,  I  must 
pay  my  court  to  her.  Let's  risk  the  recognition," 
and  going  up  to  Dubotte,  who  was  already  making 
eyes  at  Aldegonde,  Dodichet  cried, — 

"  Why,  Dubotte  ?  my  old-time  friend,  what  an 
agreeable  surprise  !  How  d'ye  do,  Dubotte  ;  is  that 
your  wife,  you've  brought  here  ?  Present  me  to 
her,  my  dear  fellow,  that  I  may  compliment  her 
on  her  husband." 

Philemon  Dubotte  uttered  an  exclamation  of 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        97 

surprise  on  perceiving  Dodichet,  who  was  already 
shaking  him  by  the  hand,  and  he  cried, — 

"  Why,  how  came  you  here  ?  What,  my  dear 
Mirotaine,  do  you  know  this  heedless  fellow 
Dodichet  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  your  heedless  fellow  ? 
I  advise  you  to  talk,  you  blond  Phoebus,  you.  If 
your  wife  wasn't  here  I  should  have  fine  things  to 
tell  of  you." 

M.  Mirotaine  looked  at  the  two  friends  very 
uneasily,  and  seemed  to  be  waiting  for  Dubotte  to 
explain  himself  more  fully  regarding  the  so-called 
sugar-broker,  whose  unceremonious  manners  did 
not  seem  to  please  him  at  all ;  but  suddenly  Phile- 
mon spied  between  the  two  crinolines  of  the 
Mesdames  Boulard  the  gentleman  who  had  been 
represented  as  a  rich  Italian  count.  He  hastened 
towards  him,  exclaiming, — 

"  Why  —  I  am  altogether  in  a  world  of  ac- 
quaintances, here  is  M.  Seringat,  the  pharmacist, 
also,  whom  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  at  Pon- 
toise  a  year  ago.  Good-day,  M.  Seringat,  how  is 
your  wife  ? " 

On  hearing  himself  called  by  his  right  name, 
M,  Seringat  became  pale,  then  purple;  he  carried 
his  hand  to  his  forehead  with  a  gesture  of  despair 
and  stammered, — 

"  No  — that  isn't  true.  I  am  Miflores  —  I  won't 
be  called  anything  but  Miflores  again.  I  don't 
know  you." 

Vol.  XXIV 


98  ADHfiMAR 

And  pushing  aside  the  two  crinolines  which  were 
beside  him,  as  well  as  all  the  persons  who  stood 
in  his  way,  this  gentleman  quickly  left  the  draw- 
ing-room, took  the  first  hat  he  could  find  in  the 
antechamber,  and  disappeared,  leaving  everybody 
stupefied,  except  Dodichet,  who  threw  himself  into 
an  easy  chair,  where  he  laughed  at  the  effect  this 
recognition  had  produced  upon  the  ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen present. 

M.  Mirotaine  was  the  first  to  recover  the  use 
of  speech. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  How  is  this  ?  This 
man,  whom  they  presented  to  me  as  a  rich  Italian 
count,  supposed  to  be  seeking  as  a  wife  a  young 
lady  without  a  dowry,  is  an  apothecary  from  Pon- 
toise  and  a  married  man?  Why,  they  must  be 
making  sport  of  me  then  !  But  who  has  wished 
to  cheat  me  thus  ?  Answer,  M.  Sugar-broker  and 
you,  Madame  Putiphar,  who  take  it  upon  you  to 
make  marriages  —  answer  me?"  M.  Mirotaine 
glared  at  the  company  as  he  finished. 

The  dealer  in  toilet  articles,  who  was  greatly 
confused,  pointed  to  Dodichet,  hesitated  and  stam- 
mered,— 

"  But  this  gentleman  told  me  that  he  had  a 
friend  —  very  rich  —  to  marry.  See  now,  mon- 
sieur, you  told  me  so  the  other  day  at  your  little 
dinner,  didn't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  really,"  answered  Dodichet,  "  I  told  you 
so  because  I  thought  I  had.     This  scoundrel  of  a 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        99 

Miflores  has  deceived  me  also  —  you  must  see 
that  I  am  very  much  put  out  about  it.  But,  after 
all,  M.  Mirotaine,  I  don't  see  why  you  should  be 
so  very  angry  about  it.  This  mistake  has  fur- 
nished you  with  an  occasion  for  giving  a  dinner  to 
your  friends;  therefore,  you  cannot  regret  it  —  and 
as  for  me,  it  has  procured  me  the  pleasure  of  mak- 
ing your  acquaintance,  which  I  hope  to  cultivate. 
I  will  bring  you  some  samples  of  sugar  and  mo- 
lasses of  the  first  quality.  In  the  meantime,  I 
must  follow  the  tracks  of  this  miserable  rascal 
Miflores,  who  has  so  shamefully  tricked  me.  He 
will  have  my  life  or  I  shall  have  his,  but  I  very 
much  prefer  to  have  his.  Mesdames,  I  bid  you 
adieu." 

Dodichet  had  disappeared  almost  as  soon  as 
M.  Seringat. 

"  Do  you  really  think  that  he  is  going  to  fight 
with  the  pretended  count  ?  "  asked  Mirotaine  of 
Dubotte. 

"  Him !  he  fight  with  the  other  ?  it  is  easily  seen 
that  you  don't  know  our  friend  Dodichet  as  well 
as  I  do  !  He's  a  humbug  of  the  first  water,  and  all 
this  is  nothing  but  a  joke  he  wanted  to  play  you 
for  reasons  of  his  own." 

M.  Mirotaine  sank,  overwhelmed,  on  a  chair, 
muttering, — 

'*  A  dinner  of  eleven  covers  — oh,  my  bordeaux 
wine  ! " 

"And  the  false  count  has  carried  off  my  hat," 


loo  ADHEMAR 

exclaimed  M.   Brid'oison,  ferreting  in   the  ante- 
room. 

"  Comfort  yourself,"  said  madame  to  him,  "that 
which  he  has  left  you  is  a  great  deal  newer  than 
your  own." 


CHAPTER   VII 
How  It  Began 

Madame  Dermont  occupied  a  very  pretty  little 
apartment  in  the  Rue  Paradis-Poissonniere ;  she 
had  but  one  servant,  but  that  was  enough  for  a 
woman  who  lived  alone,  received  very  little  com- 
pany, and  was  always  happier  at  home  than  in  the 
midst  of  the  most  fashionable  gatherings.  This 
lady  possessed  eight  thousand  francs  income  — 
which  would  have  been  very  little  for  one  who 
wished  to  follow  all  the  fashions  and  live  in  luxury 
and  dissipation ;  but  it  was  amply  sufficient  for  the 
widow,  who  did  not  care  to  shine,  and  who  loved 
to  think. 

Nathalie  was  in  her  drawing-room,  seated  at  her 
piano,  looking  at  her  music.  However,  as  her  fin- 
gers rested  motionless  on  the  keys,  it  is  probable 
that  the  young  woman  was  thinking  of  something 
other  than  what  was  before  her.  This  was  two 
days  after  her  visit  to  her  young  friend  Juliette. 

She  was  drawn  from  her  revery  by  the  ringing 
of  the  bell.  The  sound  made  her  tremble,  although 
she  was  expecting  no  one,  at  least  she  no  longer 
expected  the  one  of  whom  she  was  thinking. 

The  servant  came  and  announced  M.  Adhemar 


I02  ADHEMAR 

Monbrun.  At  this  name  Nathalie's  trembling 
increased,  her  face  was  suffused  with  blushes ;  she 
tried  to  hide  her  emotion,  glanced  at  her  toilet, 
then  told  the  maid  to  show  the  gentleman  in. 

Adhemar  presented  himself  with  that  ease  which 
society  gives  and  which  is  above  all  the  appanage 
of  the  artist  and  the  literary  man. 

"  I  come  rather  late,  madame,"  he  began,  "  to 
thank  you  for  having  sent  to  inquire  about  the 
slight  burn  on  my  hand.  You  thought  me  very 
neglectful,  did  you  not,  madame,  for  showing  so 
little  haste  in  coming  to  offer  my  thanks  to  you  ?  " 

"  Why,  no,  monsieur,  not  at  all,  you  burned 
yourself  for  me  and  it  was  the  least  I  could  do  to 
inform  myself  as  to  the  condition  of  your  hurt  — 
that  was  my  duty  ;  while  as  for  yourself,  monsieur, 
nothing  obliged  you  to  put  yourself  out  or  lose 
your  time  by  coming  to  see  me." 

"  My  dear  madame,  allow  me  to  believe  that  you 
do  not  judge  me  so  wrongly  as  to  imagine  that  I 
look  upon  it  as  an  inconvenience  to  come  and  see 
you,  that  would  make  me  very  unhappy  ;  my  com- 
ing can  give  me  only  pleasure,  and  the  reason  — " 

"  Well,  monsieur  —  is  what  ?  " 

"  By  Jove,  I  don't  know  how  to  tell  you,  it's 
most  embarrassing." 

"  You,  monsieur,  embarrassed  with  a  lady.  Oh, 
I  don't  believe  that  for  a  moment ;  that  is,  unless 
you  had  something  disagreeable  to  say  to  her,  and 
then  I  can  imagine  what  it  would  cost  you." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       103 

"  I  don't  think  I  could  ever  be  disagreeable  to 
you  —  however  — " 

"  Well,  you  haven't  said  yet  why  you  did  not 
come." 

"  Well,  you  see,  I  thought  that  when  a  fellow 
had  had  the  good  luck  to  be  received  by  you  he 
would  want  to  come  again  —  often  ;  in  fact,  often 
enough  to  displease  you  perhaps." 

Nathalie  looked  down  as  she  murmured, — 

"  And  was  that  really  why  you  did  not  come  ? " 

"  Yes ;  you  know  there's  a  proverb  which  says  *a 
burned  child  dreads  the  fire,'  and  you  were  the  fire 
for  me  at  that  moment,  madame." 

"  And  yet  you  have  sufficiently  proved  to  me 
that  you  don't  dread  it.  Do  all  the  ladies  frighten 
you  ?    Frankly,  monsieur,  I  don't  believe  it !  " 

"  Oh,  no,  madame,  some  of  them  are  nothing 
more  than  an  ignis  fatuus  —  and  there  is  nothing 
to  be  feared  in  that !  " 

"A  truce  to  joking,  M.  Adhemar,  I  want  to 
see  your  wrist  and  assure  myself  that  it  is  quite 
healed." 

Adhemar  rolled  his  cuff  back  and  presented  the 
wrist  that  had  been  burned.  The  better  to  examine 
it,  Nathalie  took  the  hand  that  was  extended  to 
her  and  drew  it  towards  her,  and  the  hand  she  thus 
touched  pressed  her  own  very  tenderly,  which  greatly 
embarrassed  the  young  woman,  who  stammered, — 

"  Yes,  it  has  healed,  but  you  have  a  great  scar. 
Do  you  suppose  it  will  always  remain  ? " 


I04  ADHEMAR 

"  I  hope  so,  I'm  sure." 

"  What !  you  hope  it  will  ?  Why  should  you 
hope  that  ? " 

"  Because  it  will  recall  to  me  the  day  on  which 
I  had  the  happiness  of  being  a  little  useful  to  you." 

"  A  little  —  what  makes  you  say  that  ?  a  little  ! 
when  you  perhaps  saved  my  life." 

"  Oh,  if  you  were  really  indebted  to  me  for  any- 
thing, it  would  only  remain  with  you  to  pay  the 
debt." 

"  How  is  that  ?  " 

"  Can't  you  divine,  madame  ?  " 

"  No,  monsieur,  I  can't  imagine  at  all." 

"  Oh,  pardon  me,  you,  above  everyone,  ought 
to  be  able  to  divine  the  thoughts  which  come  from 
the  heart." 

"  Why  I  more  than  anyone  else  ? " 

"  Because  there  is  something  in  your  eyes  that 
denotes  perspicacity." 

"  If  my  eyes  have  such  a  peculiar  expression  I 
shall  be  afraid  to  raise  them." 

"  Ah,  don't  deprive  me  of  the  sight  of  them  — 
that  would  be  a  punishment  indeed  !  " 

"  Stop,  monsieur,  don't  say  such  things  as  those 
to  me  —  you  are  in  the  habit  of  paying  court  to 
all  the  ladies,  and  they  take  it  for  what  it  is  worth, 
for  the  greater  part  of  them  are  accustomed  to  your 
speeches  and  laugh  at  them  because  they  know  too 
much  to  take  seriously  the  gallant  speeches  of  a 
man  for  whom  love  is  only  an  agreeable  pastime. 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       105 

But  I  am  not  that  kind  of  woman.  I  go  very  lit- 
tle into  society,  and  artist  life  is  unknown  to  me. 
In  fact,  if  I  were  to  take  seriously  what  you  say  to 
me,  if  I  were  to  place  any  faith  in  your  speeches, 
confess  now,  should  I  not  be  very  wrong  and  per- 
haps speedily  repent  me  of  it." 

Adhemar  remained  silent  for  some  moments,  but 
he  looked  at  Nathalie,  and  in  his  look  was  some- 
thing of  sadness. 

"  Ah,  madame,"  he  said, sighing,  "if  I  were  lucky 
enough  to  inspire  a  woman  with  love  for  me,  I 
should  be  only  too  happy !  but  no,  women  are  all 
inconstant,  they  never  really  love — they  only  wish 
to  be  adored — but  they  reserve  the  right  of  loving 
us  only  according  to  their  own  caprice." 

Nathalie  could  not  help  laughing  as  she  said, — 

"  You  have  a  singular  manner  of  paying  your 
court  to  a  lady." 

"  Pray,  pardon  me,  I  had  no  thought  of  you  in 
speaking  so." 

"  You  were  speaking  of  women  in  general, 
then  ? " 

"  Yes,  but  there  must  be  exceptions,  even  in  that 
case. 

"And  have  you  never  met  any  of  these  —  ex- 
ceptions ? " 

"  No,  I  have  never  had  that  happiness." 

"  And  that  has  given  you  a  bad  opinion  of  all 
women  ? " 

"Oh,  I'm  wrong,  no  doubt;  for  because  they 


io6  ADHEMAR 

have  never  loved  me  is  no  reason  why  they  have 
not  really  loved  others." 

"  Oh,  and  have  none  of  them  ever  loved  you, 
monsieur  ? " 

"  No,  madame,  never  truly  loved  me." 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  of  that  ?  " 

"  Only  too  sure." 

"  But  you,  monsieur,  who  think  you  have  never 
really  been  loved ;  on  your  side,  have  you  ever 
really  loved  ? " 

Adhemar  for  some  moments  did  not  answer, 
then  he  said, — 

"  Why,  yes,  I  think  I  have." 

"  Oh,  you  are  not  quite  certain  ?  " 

"  When  any  one  is  disposed  to  love  very  deeply, 
and  finds  that  his  love  has  not  been  reciprocated, 
don't  you  think  that  must  be  enough  to  cool  his 
feehng  ? " 

"  No,  monsieur,  I  certainly  do  not  think  so ;  I 
think  when  one  is  really  in  love  it  is  very  difficult 
to  banish  from  one's  heart  the  object  which  occu- 
pies it.  In  fact,  I  don't  think  reason  has  anything 
to  do  with  love,  and  when  reason  reasserts  her  sway 
it  is  because  love  has  flown.  But,  really,  we  are 
having  a  singular  conversation  ;  one  would  think  we 
had  to  write  a  treatise  on  *The  proper  manner  of 
loving.'  Have  you  brought  out  a  new  play,  writ- 
ten a  new  novel  since  I  last  saw  you  ? " 

"No,  madame,  no — I  have  done  nothing." 

"  You've  been  idle  —  that's  very  bad,  that  is." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       107 

*'  No,  I  haven't  been  idle,  but  I  have  been  — 
preoccupied ;  that  isn't  quite  the  same  thing,  but 
it  prevents  one  from  working  even  more." 

"  You  know  M.  Lucien  Grischard,  do  you  not, 
monsieur  ? " 

"  Yes,  madam e,  I  do  —  but  how  did  you  learn 
it?" 

"  Why,  that  was  very  simple ;  this  M.  Lucien 
knows,  I  may  say  is  courting,  a  young  person  who 
is  an  intimate  friend  of  mine  —  Mademoiselle 
Juliette  Mirotaine." 

"  Yes,  he  is  very  much  in  love  and  would  like 
to  marry  her  —  he  told  me  that." 

"  On  the  other  hand,  Juliette  has  no  secrets  from 
me ;  she  loves  Lucien  Grischard  deeply,  but  her 
father  refuses  to  let  her  marry  him.  She  has  told 
me  all  her  sorrows." 

"  Very  good !  but  I  don't  quite  see  how  I  came 
into  them." 

Nathalie  blushed,  hesitated,  and  at  last  an- 
swered,— 

"If  my  friend  tells  me  all  that  concerns  herself, 
don't  you  think  I  should  do  as  much,  monsieur  ? 
This  accident  which  happened  to  me,  and  which, 
but  for  you,  might  have  proved  fatal,  I  told  her 
all  about  it,  and  naturally  I  told  the  name  of  the 
person  who  had  burned  himself  in  smothering  the 
fire  in  my  gown.  On  hearing  your  name — which 
is  so  well-known — she  exclaimed,  'That  gentle- 
man is  a  friend  of  Lucien's.'  That  is  how  I  became 


io8  adh£mar 

aware  that  you  knew  him.  Does  this  explanation 
suffice  you,  monsieur  ?  " 

"You  are  a  thousand  times  too  kind  to  have 
given  it  me.  I  only  asked  you  because  I  wanted 
to  know  if  you  had  been  interested  enough  to 
remember  me." 

"  It  would  have  been  very  ungrateful  on  my 
part  had  I  forgotten  you  and  your  courageous  act 
so  quickly." 

"  By  Jove,  madame,  a  very  witty  man  once  said, 
*  Ingratitude  is  the  independence  of  the  heart.' 
That's  sad  —  but,  it  is  half  true  !  " 

"  No,  monsieur,  ingratitude  proves  only  that  one 
has  no  heart!" 

The  conversation  was  prolonged  for  some  time 
between  these  two  persons,  who  knew  and  under- 
stood each  other  so  well,  even  when  they  were 
silent.  However,  this  being  his  first  visit  to  the 
widow,  Adhemar,  who  was  fearful  of  committing 
an  indiscretion,  took  leave  of  Madame  Dermont, 
saying,— 

"  Will  you  allow  me  to  come  and  see  you  again  ? " 

And  Nathalie  accorded  him  the  desired  permis- 
sion with  a  smile  so  amiable  and  inviting  that  he 
could  not  doubt  the  pleasure  she  experienced  in 
giving  it. 

As  he  left  the  pretty  widow's,  Adhemar  said  to 
himself, — 

"  That  woman  is  charming  —  I  feel  that  I  could 
get  very  fond  of  her ;  perhaps  it  would  be  better 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       109 

for  me  not  to  go  back  to  see  her ;  for  if  I  were  to 
let  myself  go  and  really  get  to  love  her,  she'd  very 
likely  do  as  others  have  done,  deceive  me,  make  me 
unhappy.  But  I  am  talking  as  if  the  lady  were 
already  my  sweetheart.  What  if  she  should  never 
love  me  ?  Oh,  but  something  tells  me  she  will. 
And,  after  all,  why  should  one  fear  being  happy 
when  an  occasion  for  being  so  presents  itself?  *  Love 
is  essential,'  says  Jean-Jacques.  *  Love  is  essential,' 
says  Voltaire ;  that  perhaps  is  the  sole  subject  on 
which  these  two  celebrated  men  agree.  Therefore, 
we  must  not  repulse  love  when  it  wishes  to  slip 
into  our  hearts,  and  although  it  cause  us  more  pain 
than  pleasure,  still  that  is  much  better  than  not 
loving  at  all." 

For  her  part,  Madame  Dermont  did  not  say  all 
that,  but  she  yielded  to  the  leanings  of  her  heart, 
which  inclined  her  to  love  Adhemar ;  his  person 
pleased  her  and,  without  being  aware  of  it,  she  was 
already  in  love  with  him  for  what  he  had  written. 
Now  that  she  had  made  his  acquaintance  she  ex- 
perienced pleasure  in  hearing  him  talk,  a  secret 
sympathy  led  her  towards  him ;  despite  all  the  evil 
that  monsieur  thought  of  women  she  did  not  try 
to  fight  that  love  which  seized  her  heart;  she  hoped 
to  oblige  him  to  render  justice  to  her  sex,  for,  not 
being  inconstant  in  her  tastes,  she  could  not  believe 
that  all  women  were  light  and  flighty. 

It  was,  therefore,  with  delight,  with  happiness, 
that  she  heard  Adhemar  ask  her  permission  to  come 


no  ADHfeMAR 

and  see  her,  and  if  she  was  not  then  able  to  hide 
the  pleasure  which  his  entreaty  had  given  her,  it 
was  because  she  was  not  coquettish,  and  did  not 
seek  to  dissimulate  her  real  feelings  under  a  feigned 
indifference. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

The  DuBOTTi  Household 

It  is  time  that  we  should  occupy  ourselves  with 
this  husband  who  was  adored  by  his  wife,  a  thing 
that  is  seen  sometimes,  but  which  is  by  no  means 
common  ;  and  then,  instead  of  being  proud  of  his 
good  fortune,  instead  of  showing  himself,  by  his 
little  attentions,  his  amiable  temper,  grateful  for 
this  conjugal  love,  these  tender  kisses,  of  which 
his  spouse  was  so  prodigal  —  this  gentleman 
seemed,  on  the  contrary,  to  be  very  weary  of  and 
excessively  bored  by  madame's  caresses.  He  even 
repulsed  them  sometimes  on  frivolous  pretexts. 
For  men  are  thus  made,  and  if  their  wives  deceive 
them,  they  immediately  fall  in  love  with  them 
again.  Poor  human  beings,  you  complain  when 
you  possess  your  wife's  affection  and  complain 
more  loudly  when  you  do  not  possess  it.  You  are 
never  contented,  and  thus  it  is  in  everything.  As 
for  me,  all  my  life  I  have  heard  men  complain  in 
love,  in  politics,  in  business  ;  I  have  always  found 
people  discontented  ;  I  have  at  all  epochs,  under 
all  governments,  heard  brokers,  merchants  and 
shopkeepers  say,  "  There  is  nothing  doing !  busi- 
ness is  very  dull,"  and  other  complaints  of  the 


112  ADHfiMAR 

same  kind ;  which  does  not  prevent  business  from 
going  on  as  usual,  some  making  fortunes,  others 
failing,  as  has  been  seen  in  all  times. 

After  the  precipitate  flight  of  the  Italian  count 
and  the  sugar-broker,  one  can  easily  understand 
that  the  company  assembled  at  M.  Mirotaine's  was 
left  very  much  disturbed  and  agitated;  those  who 
had  been  at  the  dinner  and  who  understood  the 
object  of  that  repast,  looked  at  each  other  without 
saying  anything;  those  who  had  not  come  until  the 
evening,  on  the  contrary,  addressed  a  great  number 
of  questions  to  the  master  of  the  house  and  his 
wife,  and  for  their  part,  the  latter  did  not  cease 
to  interrogate  Dubotte,  who  had  discovered  the 
mystery. 

"In  fact,"  cried  M.  Mirotaine, " you  are  sure, 
my  dear  Dubotte,  that  this  so-called  Count  Miflores 
is  M.  Seringat  ?  " 

"  Perfectly  certain  :  M.  Seringat,  apothecary  at 
Pontoise.  I  passed  nearly  two  months  in  that 
town,  where  I  went  to  receive  an  inheritance.  You 
remember,  Nonore  ? " 

"I  should  think  so,  indeed;  I  was  lonely  enough 
while  you  were  away.     I  did  nothing  but  cry." 

"  You  cry  a  great  deal  too  much  when  I  am 
away,  my  darling  ;  you  must  cure  yourself  of  that 
habit,  which  will  rnake  your  eyes  as  red  as  a  rab- 
bit's. But  during  my  stay  at  Pontoise  I  on  several 
occasions  found  myself  in  gatherings  at  which 
M.  Seringat  also  was  present." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       113 

"  And  he  is  married  ?  " 

"  Very  well  married,  to  a  very  pretty  woman, 
who,  I  am  sure,  does  not  amuse  herself  by  crying 
when  her  husband  is  away.  I  even  had  the  pleasure 
of  dancing  with  her  at  a  party  given  by  the  notary 
of  the  neighborhood." 

"  You  horrid  man,  you  danced  without  me  ! " 

"  My  darling,  if  in  marrying  a  man  debarred 
himself  from  dancing  a  rigadoon,  except  with  his 
wife,  that  would  disgust  men  with  marriage  alto- 
gether. You  can't  seem  to  get  it  into  your  head 
that,  even  though  a  man  be  married,  he  should 
nevertheless  be  gallant  and  amiable  with  other 
ladies.     I  have  told  you  so  a  hundred  times." 

"And  his  wife?" 

"  Hang  it !  his  wife  has  the  same  rights  ;  above 
all,  she  should  not,  as  you  do,  keep  her  husband  in 
her  pocket  all  the  time, —  fie!  it  is  bad  form — it's 
devilish  hard  on  a  poor  beggar.  You  really  must 
cure  yourself  of  that !  I  don't  want  you  to  be 
ridiculous." 

"  But,"  resumed  M.  Mirotaine,  "  What  do  you 
imagine  can  be  M.  Seringat's  motive  for  presenting 
himself  in  a  respectable  house  under  a  name  which 
is  not  his  own,  and  as  a  man  who  wishes  to  marry?" 

"  Did  he  tell  you  he  wanted  to  marry  ? " 

"  He  did  not  breathe  a  word,"  said  Aldegonde, 
"  and  he  did  not  once  try  to  talk  with  Juliette." 

"  Then,  what  makes  you  say  he  wants  to  marry  ? 
for,  at  least,  unless  his  wife  be  dead  —  but  that 

Vol.  XXIV 


114  ADHfiMAR 

seems  to  me  very  improbable,  for  she  was  young, 
and  as  fresh  as  a  rose." 

"  You  noticed  that,  Philemon  ?  " 

"  My  dearest,  I  beg  of  you,  don't  carp  at  every- 
thing I  say  —  I  have  noticed  a  great  many  women 
since  then." 

"  Oh,  you  bad  boy!  and  me?" 

"  You  are  my  wife  and  that  ought  to  suffice  you ; 
it  seems  to  me  that  is  quite  enough  for  you.  In 
short,  my  dear  Mirotaine,  I  repeat  to  you,  all  this 
must  be  a  joke  got  up  by  my  friend  Dodichet,  who 
passes  his  time  in  seeking  whom  he  can  make  game 
of;  and,  although  he  was  my  comrade  at  boarding 
school,  I  have  never  invited  him  to  come  and  see 
me,  not  that  I  am  afraid  of  his  mischief.  Thank 
God!  I  have  a  wife  who  is  such  that  I  can  sleep 
with  both  eyes  shut." 

"  Besides,  my  dear,  that's  what  you  do,  you  al- 
ways sleep  with  me." 

"  Hush,  Nonore !  Those  details  are  never  spoken 
of  in  society." 

"  Why  is  that,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  Why  —  because  — " 

M.  Mirotaine  was  as  cross  as  a  bear  at  having 
given  a  grand  dinner  to  no  purpose.  Aldegonde  was 
vexed  at  having  been  deceived  by  her  toilet  mer- 
chant, who  had  already  departed  quite  confused  at 
having  made  such  a  fiasco;  for  it  is  thus  that  peo- 
ple speak  of  an  affair  that  hangs  fire,  a  play  that 
does  not  succeed,  or  a  joke  that  does  not  make 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       115 

people  laugh.  The  rest  of  the  party  was  not  long 
in  following  Madame  Putiphar ;  the  three  balloons 
retired,  each  bumping  the  other;  M.  Brid'oison 
put  on  the  hat  that  was  left  in  place  of  his  own ; 
young  Artaban  leaped  on  his  sire's  shoulders ; 
Madame  Trichon  went  off,  rubbing  the  eye  which 
had  been  struck  by  the  pickled  onion  ;  and  young 
Calle  retreated,  looking  at  Aldegonde,  who  did  not 
notice  him  because  she  was  angry.  Juliette  alone 
was  pleased,  but  she  did  not  dare  let  it  be  seen. 

Dubotte  and  his  wife  did  the  same  as  the  others 
—  took  their  leave. 

"  It's  a  spoiled  evening,"  said  Philemon  to  young 
Calle,  who  was  putting  on  his  gloves  as  he  went 
downstairs.  "  It's  only  ten  o'clock,  what  the  devil 
shall  we  do  now?" 

"  Seven  minutes  past  ten,"  said  the  young  dandy, 
looking  at  his  watch,  "  and  I  keep  as  good  time  as 
the  Treasury." 

"That's  all  right!  but  one  can't  go  to  bed  at  seven 
minutes  past  ten  —  I  detest  to  go  to  bed  early." 

"  You  always  want  me  to  go  to  bed  early,  how- 
ever, my  dear." 

"  Yes,  it  is  healthful  for  women,  they  need  more 
rest  than  we.    Which  way  do  you  go,  M.  Calle  ?  " 

"  To  the  Rue  de  La-Tour-d'Auvergne,  number 
eight,  monsieur." 

"  Why,  we  live  in  the  Rue  Bleue  ;  not  two  steps 
from  there.  M.  Calle,  are  you  related  to  a  Calle 
at  Lyons,  a  wholesale  silk  merchant  ? " 


ii6  adh£mar 

"  He's  my  cousin,  monsieur." 

"  By  Jove,  he's  one  of  my  best  friends !  when 
we  were  boys  he  often  came  to  Paris ;  we've  had 
a  good  many  sprees  together." 

"  What,  my  dear,  you  have  had  —  sprees  ?  — 
you  r 

"  Nonore,  I  was  speaking  to  this  gentleman  ; 
that  has  nothing  to  do  with  you.  So  you  are 
Edouard  Calle's  cousin  ? " 

"  I  have  that  honor." 

"  Confound  it !  what  a  bore  to  have  to  go  in  at 
ten  o'clock." 

"  My  dear,  if  you  want  to  take  me  somewhere, 
I  would  just  as  soon  go." 

"Why,  no,  madame,  no,  I  don't  want  to  take 
you  anywhere  now.  It's  past  the  time  for  going  to 
the  theatre,  there's  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  go 
to  a  cafe,  and  a  man  doesn't  take  his  wife  to  a  cafe, 
it  is  very  bad  form ;  besides,  women  are  bored  there, 
they  have  to  be  so  straitlaced." 

"  But  you  go  there  a  good  deal  yourself." 

"  Yes,  I  go  to  my  club ;  a  club  composed  of  very 
good  fellows  ;  where  they  play  cards,  and  I  confess 
I  have  a  great  desire  to  go  there  and  have  a  game 
of  whist." 

"  Well,  take  me  to  your  club." 

"  The  idea,  as  though  women  were  received 
there.  Women  at  a  club  !  is  there  no  way  of  mak- 
ing you  understand  anything  ?  I  greatly  desire  to 
go,  but  it  doesn't  lie  in  quite  the  same  direction  as 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK        117 

my  house.  Now,  I  think  of  it !  as  M.  Calle  lives 
in  our  neighborhood,  it  would  not  put  him  out 
much  to  leave  you  at  our  door ;  and  that  would 
enable  me  to  go  to  my  club." 

"  Monsieur,  I  am  quite  at  your  service,  and  it 
will  afford  me  great  pleasure  to  see  madame  home." 

"What!  Philemon,  you  are  going  to  leave  me  ? 
you  want  me  to  go  with  a  gentleman  whom  I  don't 
know  ?  " 

"  By  Jove !  Nonore,  it  seems  to  me  there's  noth- 
ing very  alarming  about  monsieur.  He's  a  friend 
of  Mirotaine's  and  a  cousin  of  a  person  with  whom 
I  am  very  intimate;  he  is  not  a  stranger  to  me." 

"Oh,  that  is  all  right;  only  you  know  I'm  in  the 
habit  of  taking  no  one's  arm  but  yours." 

"  Exactly  so,  and  it  is  a  ridiculous  habit  and  one 
which  you  must  drop." 

And  taking  his  arm  from  beneath  his  wife's  the 
handsome  fair  man  presented  the  latter  to  the  young 
man,  who  was  waiting  in  a  very  modest  attitude, 
and  said  to  him, — 

"  My  dear  M.  Calle,  I  confide  my  wife  to  you, 
and  I  am  very  tranquil  in  so  doing,  for  I  am  per- 
suaded you  will  not  lose  her." 

"  Oh,  no,  monsieur,  I  will  not  leave  madame 
until  she  is  in  the  house." 

"  Thank  you  !  Good  evening.  Nonore,  go  to 
bed  at  once,  I  shan't  be  in  till  late  —  " 

"  Philemon  !  Philemon  —  you  are  going  with- 
out kissing  me !  " 


ii8  ADHEMAR 

But  Philemon  was  already  at  a  distance ;  de- 
lighted at  having  his  wife  taken  off  his  hands,  he 
had  run  off  like  an  athlete.  The  loving  Eleonore 
heaved  a  deep  sigh  and  decided  at  last  to  take  the 
arm  which  young  Calle  extended  towards  her. 
They  set  off  walking,  the  little  woman  still  sighing, 
her  escort  racking  his  head  to  think  what  he  could 
say  to  console  her;  he  summoned  his  wits  and 
stammered  at  length, — 

"  If  we  are  going  too  fast,  madame,  we  might 
walk  more  slowly." 

"  Oh,  it  is  all  right  as  we  are  going." 

And  they  continued  on  their  way  in  silence. 
However,  the  little  woman,  who  loved  to  talk,  was 
the  first  to  open  the  conversation. 

"  You  are  not  married,  I  suppose,  monsieur  ?  " 

"  No,  madame,  I  am  a  bachelor." 

"  When  you  are  married,  monsieur,  shall  you 
allow  your  wife  to  be  taken  home  by  your  ac- 
quaintances ?  " 

"  By  Jove  !  madame,  I  confess  that  I  don't 
know  what  I  should  do." 

"  Would  you  think  it  wrong  that  your  wife 
should  always  want  to  go  out  with  you  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  think  not,  madame." 

"  Would  you  be  bored  if  she  wanted  to  kiss  you 
often  ?  " 

"  Most  assuredly  not —  on  the  contrary,  above 
all  if —  above  all  if  she  —  in  fact,  it  would  not  bore 
me  at  all.'* 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       119 

M.  Calle  had  tried  to  pay  a  compliment  to  the 
young  matron  who  was  holding  his  arm,  but  he 
had  not  been  successful.    Eleonore  resumed, — 

"Well,  my  husband  often  repulses  me  when  I 
take  a  fancy  to  kiss  him." 

"  Oh,  he  does  it  for  fun,  no  doubt." 

"  No,  monsieur ;  he  even  scolds  me ;  he  asserts 
that  I  have  common  manners  —  that  it  is  only 
workmen's  wives  who  kiss  their  husbands  like  that. 
Is  that  true  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  can't  tell  you  that,  madame." 

"  Then,  I  regret  that  my  husband  is  not  a  work- 
ing man,  because  then  I  could  kiss  him  when  it 
pleased  me  without  his  thinking  me  ridiculous." 

Calle  made  no  answer,  but  to  himself  he  said, — 

"  This  lady,  it  seems,  is  very  fond  of  kissing. 
If  I  were  her  husband  I  should  do  the  kissing 
myself.  She's  not  so  fine  a  woman  as  Madame 
Mirotaine,  but  she  has  a  very  sweet  expression, 
and  then  it  seems  she  is  very  caressing." 

They  reached  Dubotte's  house,  Eleonore  thanked 
her  escort ;  the  latter  bowed  respectfully  and  es- 
sayed several  compliments  which  he  could  not  fin- 
ish, but  which  she  acknowledged  by  bows,  and  the 
young  woman  went  in,  saying  to  herself, — 

"  He's  very  polite,  is  that  gentlemen  ;  only,  he 
doesn't  talk  enough." 

M.  Dubotte,  who  on  that  evening  returned  home 
very  late,  having  been  elsewhere  than  to  his  club, 
did  his  best  to  go  to  bed  without  awakening  his 


I20  ADHEMAR 

wife,  a  manoeuvre  which  he  executed  so  often  that 
he  had  become  an  adept  at  it.  The  next  day,  as 
he  dressed  himself,  he  said  to  madame, — 

"  Well,  my  dear,  were  you  pleased  with  your 
escort  ?    You  got  home  without  accident  ?  " 

"  Oh,  of  course.  The  young  man  was  very  kind, 
he  came  right  up  to  the  door  with  me." 

"  Hang  it !  did  you  suppose  he  would  leave  you 
halfway.  You  invited  him  to  come  and  see  us, 
I  hope  ? " 

"Oh,  no  — why  should  I?" 

"  It  was  a  duty  — a  compliment  you  owed  him 
—  he  pleases  me,  this  little  Calle.  I  should  be 
pleased  for  him  to  come  and  see  us  —  he's  a  young 
man  to  whom  one  could  trust  one's  wife." 

"  But,  my  dear,  are  you  expecting  to  have  me 
accompanied  by  another  man  as  a  usual  thing  ? " 

"  I  didn't  infer  that,  but  there  are  unforeseen  cir- 
cumstances. For  instance,  we  have  tickets  to  the 
theatre  —  you  know  very  well  that  I  often  have 
them  because  of  my  connection  with  the  actors, 
well,  I  can't  go,  say  ;  or  I  can  only  go  very  late — 
then  what  do  I  do  ?  Why,  I  ask  Calle  to  take  you 
to  the  play,  and  I  come  and  join  you  when  I  have 
finished  my  business  —  you  understand  ? " 

"  What !  you  would  let  me  go  to  the  theatre 
with  some  one  else  ?   oh,  Philemon  !  " 

"Why,  if  I  join  you  there  later  on,  it  is  pre- 
cisely the  same  as  if  I  went  with  you  —  that  is  one 
of  the  things  that  are  done  every  day." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       121 

"  I  should  not  be  amused  at  all  at  the  theatre 
unless  you  were  with  me." 

"  You  don't  seem  to  understand  that  I  should 
go  also  — later  on." 

"  That  is  not  the  same  thing." 

*•  Ah,  you  are  behind  the  times,  my  dear,  good 
wife,  you  are  behind  the  times.  Fortunately,  I 
know  this  young  man's  address  ;  he  told  us  him- 
self that  he  lives  at  No.  8  Rue  de  La-Tour-d'Au- 
vergne." 

"  And  do  you  want  to  go  and  see  him  ?  " 

"  Since  I  was  intimate  with  his  cousin,  and  he 
can  give  me  news  of  him.  Wait !  I  have  an  idea ! 
I'll  invite  him  to  dinner,  he's  a  fellow  of  good  tone, 
not  like  that  low  beast  Dodichet,whom  I  never  shall 
invite  —  and  that  was  nice,  what  he  did  to  Miro- 
taine.  But  why  was  this  M.  Seringat,  the  Pontoise 
apothecary,  in  Paris,  and  under  another  name  ? 
What  can  he  have  done  with  his  wife  ?  If  I  had 
time  I  would  go  to  Pontoise  to  satisfy  myself." 

"  You  would  take  me  with  you,  in  that  case, 
would  you  not  ?  " 

"  Ah,  that's  it,  is  it  ?  That  would  be  very  amus- 
ing, to  put  one's  wife  in  one's  pocket  for  a  little 
journey  of  twenty-four  hours  —  to  double  and 
treble  the  expenses,  that  would  be  amazingly  stu- 
pid ;  but,  reassure  yourself,  I  haven't  time  to  go 
to  Pontoise." 

Some  days  later  Dubotte  said  to  his  wife, — 

"  My  dearest,  I  must  warn  you  that  we  shall 


122  ADHEMAR 

have  two  people  to  dinner  tomorrow ;  tell  the  ser- 
vant to  prepare  the  meal  carefully  and  not  to  for- 
get, above  all,  to  have  something  in  the  way  of 
sweets ;  you  know  that  I  don't  dine  well  unless 
there  is  a  sweet  dish." 

"  Yes,  you  are  too  dainty." 

"  All  men  who  love  the  women  must  be  fond  of 
sweet  things." 

"  Ah,  you  are  much  too  fond  of  them,  you  bad 
boy !  " 

"  Too  fond  of  sweets  ?  " 

"  No,  of  women  ;  if  you  bestowed  all  your  love 
on  your  own  wife  it  wouldn't  so  much  matter." 

"My  darling,  I  might  answer  you;  I'm  ex- 
tremely fond  of  chocolate  cream ;  however,  if  you 
were  to  give  me  chocolate  cream  every  day,  I 
might  get  tired  of  it." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  that  you  no 
longer  care  for  anything  but  chocolate  cream  ?  " 

"  That  was  a  joke;  think  about  your  dinner  for 
tomorrow." 

"  Whom  have  you  invited?  Oh,  my  two  dearest 
friends,  I  wager,  Madame  Lambert  and  her  sister." 

"  No,  I  haven't  invited  your  friends  ;  Madame 
Lambert  takes  snuff  and  I  think  that  odious  in  a 
woman  —  if  she  would  only  smoke,  it  wouldn't 
matter.  There  are  some  very  pretty  women  who 
smoke  now ;  but  that  snuff-box  business  is  detest- 
able, when  she  takes  out  her  handkerchief  one 
would  imagine  one  was  in  a  porter's  lodge.    As  to 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       123 

her  sister,  that's  another  thing;  no  matter  when 
you  look  at  her  she  jerks  her  head  on  one  side  and 
shakes  it  and  winks  her  eyes." 

"  She  can't  help  that,  it's  a  twitching." 

"  I  don't  say  she  can  help  it,  but  I  don't  like 
people  who  twitch,  I  am  always  afraid  of  wanting 
to  do  the  same  as  they  do.  I  have  two  gentlemen 
coming  to  dinner  —  that's  a  good  deal  more  cheer- 
ful, one  isn't  afraid  to  laugh,  can  be  less  straitlaced. 
First  of  all  I  have  Bruneau,  one  of  my  fellow- 
clerks  —  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  like  your  friend  Bruneau  —  a  man 
who  is  good  for  nothing  but  to  smoke  and  drink 
beer ;  and  who  only  feels  happy  when  he's  in  a 
cafe.  As  soon  as  he's  had  his  dinner  he'll  want 
to  go  to  a  cafe,  no  doubt — and  how  pleasant  that  is 
for  me ;  if  he  would  go  alone  I  should  have  no 
objection,  but  he  always  takes  you  with  him." 

"Why,  no,  not  always — sometimes  only — and 
then  it's  to  make  up  a  game  at  dominos,  at  which 
he  is  very  skilful." 

"And  the  other  gentlemen?" 

"The  other  —  can't  you  guess  who  he  is? — it's 
the  young  man  who  was  so  obliging  as  to  see  you 
home  the  other  evening —  M.  Calle." 

"  You've  called  on  him  then  ?  " 

"  I  was  going  there  when  I  met  him.  He  gave 
me  news  of  his  cousin,  we  talked  for  a  long  time ; 
he  seems  to  me  a  nice  enough  fellow." 

"That's  strange, he  said  hardly  anything  to  me." 


124  ADHEMAR 

"  He  looks  very  bashful.  In  short,  I  invited 
him  to  come  to  dinner  tomorrow,  and  he  seemed 
highly  flattered  at  my  invitation." 

"  Why  should  you  ask  this  young  man  to 
dinner?" 

"  My  dearest,  we  must  see  a  few  people  some- 
times.    Devil  take  it !  we  can't  live  like  bears." 

"You  never  invite  my  friends." 

"  If  there  were  some  pretty  women  among  them, 
I  would,  you  may  be  sure;  but  I  don't  know  which 
one  is  the  ugliest." 

"  That  doesn't  prevent  them  from  being  agree- 
able." 

"  I  find  them  deadly  tiresome." 

Young  Calle,  who  had  been  much  gratified  by 
Dubotte's  invitation,  did  not  fail  to  repair  to  the 
latter's  dwelling  at  the  appointed  time,  after  mi- 
nutely caring  for  the  details  of  his  toilet.  For,  if  he 
was  bashful,  that  did  not  prevent  his  being  vain 
about  his  dress.  Eleonorewelcomedthisgentleman, 
who  had  served  as  her  escort  graciously  enough, 
although  the  latter  could  never  manage  to  get 
through  any  compliment  he  endeavored  to  pay  her; 
but  the  little  woman  felt  more  at  her  ease  with  a 
timid  young  man,  and  this  guest  pleased  her  more 
than  M.  Bruneau,  the  gentleman  who  frequented 
cafes. 

The  latter  was  a  man  of  forty,  neither  handsome 
nor  ugly,  but  extremely  careless  as  to  his  attire ; 
there  was  always  something  loose  and  untidy  in  his 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       125 

appearance,  although  his  garments  were  as  fine  as 
those  of  other  people.  But  in  general  the  way  in 
which  one's  clothes  are  worn  and  kept  is  everything ; 
one  sees  men  who  wear  very  good  clothing  indeed 
who  never  have  the  appearance  of  having  made 
their  toilet,  while  others  look  perfectly  correct  in 
the  most  simple  costume.  M.  Bruneau  never  wore 
gloves,  he  always  looked  dirty  and  smelled  of  his 
pipe  a  league  off.  He  passed  all  his  leisure,  after 
office  hours,  in  playing  dominos  or  drinking  beer 
or  absinthe.  For  him  women  were  of  no  more 
account  than  a  double  blank.  But  Dubotte  liked 
Bruneau  very  much,  because  when  he  had  to  keep 
an  appointment  of  a  gallant  nature  he  had  but  to 
make  a  sign  to  his  friend,  and  the  latter  never 
failed  to  say  to  him, — 

"  Come  with  me  to  the  cafe  for  a  moment,  those 
clever  fellows  at  dominos  are  waiting  for  us,  we'll 
play  two  games  and  the  rubber,  no  more  —  and 
you  shall  come  back  to  your  wife." 

Dubotte  would  accept,  promise  Eleonore  to  re- 
turn speedily,  and  spend  thewhole  evening  outside. 
You  can  understand  very  well  that  such  friends  as 
this  pleased  madame  very  ill,  and  that  she  preferred 
to  them  a  young  man  who,  through  timidity,  stam- 
mered when  he  paid  her  a  compliment. 

Dubotte  received  Calle  as  if  he  had  known  him 
for  a  long  time ;  he  shook  hands  with  him  effusively 
—  almost  embraced  him.  They  sat  down  to  table 
and  during  the  conversation  Dubotte  exclaimed, — 


126  ADHEMAR 

"  Hang  it  1  I  know  now  why  Dodichet  played 
that  trick  on  poor  Mirotaine.  It's  just  occurred 
to  me  that  one  of  our  mutual  friends,  a  poor  fellow 
named  Lucien,  is  in  love  with  Mademoiselle  Miro- 
taine.    Did  you  know  that,  my  dear  Calle  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  have  heard  Madame  Mirotaine  speak 
of  it  —  but  this  young  man  not  having  anything 
they  refuse  to  give  Mademoiselle  Juliette  to  him." 

"  It's  so,  Lucien  told  us  all  that  the  last  time 
we  met;  he's  afraid  that  a  rich  man  will  marry  this 
young  person,  who  has  no  dowry  but  who  is  very 
pretty.     Is  she  not,  Nonore  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  for  those  who  like  brunettes." 

"  And  I  remember  that  Dodichet  said  to  Lucien 
on  that  occasion,  *  Do  you  want  me  to  serve  you 
in  any  way  in  your  love  affair  ?  what  a  good  trick 
I'll  play  your  old  hunks  of  a  Mirotaine.'  He  called 
him  *  old  hunks '  because  the  latter  is  very  close, 
very  avaricious,  you  must  have  perceived  it  ? " 

"  I  didn't  notice  it,  monsieur." 

"  Why,  it  was  extremely  wrong  to  do  as  this  gen- 
tleman did — get  himself  invited  to  dinner,  he  and 
his  friend !  " 

"And  by  Mirotaine,  too,  I  think  it  was  very 
clever.  Dodichet  is  really  much  cleverer  than  I 
had  thought  he  was." 

"What  does  this  gentleman  do?" 

"  Oh,  by  Jove  !  nothing  ;  he  has  wasted  all  he 
possessed  in  joking  and  making  game  of  everyone. 
But  where  does  that  lead  him  ?    To  dying  of  hun- 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       127 

ger ;  for,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  we  can  all  make  some- 
thing of  ourselves,  make  a  good  position,  can  we 
not,  Bruneau  ?  " 

"  How  ?     What  did  you  say  ? " 

"  Oh,  you  never  know  what  anyone  is  talking 
about  ? " 

"  Give  me  something  to  drink ;  that's  worth 
more  than  all  your  talking." 

"  I  would  say  that  each  one  has  an  end,  an  ob- 
ject here  below ;  I  know  very  well  what  my  own 
is,  and  I  shall  attain  it.  You,  M.  Calle,  must  have 
an  end  also.  What  is  it  ?  you  wish  to  arrive  some- 
where also,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Arrive  where,  monsieur  ?  " 

"That  I  don't  know.  What  is  your  occupa- 
tion?" 

"I  have  none,  monsieur.  I  live  at  ease — I  have 
ten  thousand  francs  income." 

"  Then  that  is  different ;  you  have  arrived." 

"I,"  said  M.  Bruneau,  "am  one  of  the  best 
domino  players  in  Paris  —  and  that  is  exactly  what 
I  wanted  to  arrive  at.  Do  you  play  dominos, 
monsieur  ? " 

"  No,  monsieur,  I  know  how  to  play  nothing 
but  bezique." 

Oh,  do  you  play  bezique?"   cried  Dubotte, 
that's  my  wife's  favorite  game  ;  she  loves  to  play 
a  game  of  bezique;  don't  you,  Nonore?" 

"  Why,  my  dear,  I  like  to  play  it  with  you." 

"Yes,  but  it  will  please  you  much  better  to  play  it 


128  ADHfiMAR 

with  some  one  else ;  for,  between  ourselves,  whether 
we  play  for  two  sous  or  ten,  we  never  pay  either — 
and  that  is  so  amusing.  With  another  one  gets 
really  interested  in  the  game  and  tries  to  defend 
one's  money,  it  is  always  a  good  deal  more  spicy." 

After  dinner  Dubotte  hastened  to  have  a  card 
table  carried  in,  then  he  said  to  Calle, — 

"You'll  have  a  game  of  bezique  with  my  wife? 
she  plays  very  well." 

"Willingly,  monsieur,  I  will  do  anything  you 
like." 

"  My  dear,  would  it  not  be  much  better  that  you 
should  play  with  this  gentleman,  you  are  a  much 
better  player  than  I." 

"  Not  at  all ;  I  tell  you  that  you  play  the  game 
perfectly." 

"  But  what  will  you  do  while  we  are  playing?" 

"  I  shall  watch  you  and  talk  with  my  friend 
Bruneau  ;  don't  be  uneasy  about  that." 

The  little  woman  only  decided  to  take  the  cards 
in  order  to  obey  her  husband,  because  she  doubted 
that  he  wouldn't  remain  long  watching  the  game. 
Young  Calle,  who  was  willing  to  make  himself 
agreeable,  seated  himself  opposite  Eleonore,  stam- 
mering,— 

"  How  shall  we  play  it,  madame  ?  '* 

"  That  is  all  the  same  to  me." 

"  With  how  many  packs  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know." 

"  Well,  how  many  shall  we  play  with  ?  " 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      129 

"  Just  as  you  like." 

"  Why,  confound  it,  my  dear,  don't  be  so  stupid 
as  all  that !  you  play  with  four  packs ;  ten  sous  in 
two  thousand,  we  make  the  five  hundred,  and  the 
fifteen  hundred  with  three  beziques  —  that's  how 
we  always  play  it.     Is  that  your  way,  Calle  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  play  it  all  ways." 

The  game  began,  at  first  Dubotte  remained  near 
the  table,  watched  the  play  and  exclaimed  from 
time  to  time, — 

"  Bravo,  Nonore,  bravo  !  you  are  playing  finely, 
you  will  beat  your  adversary.  Calle,  I  believe  my 
wife  will  beat  you." 

"  I  should  like  her  to  do  so,  monsieur." 

Then  when  the  game  was  well  in  hand  Dubotte 
made  a  sign  to  Bruneau,  who  said, — 

"  Durand  will  be  at  the  cafe  this  evening,  and  I 
must  talk  with  him  about  business." 

"  Well,  come  down  there  for  a  momentwith  me." 

"In  fact, it  isn't  two  steps,  I  must  go  there  and 
say  two  words  to  him." 

Dubotte  took  his  hat,  and  his  wife  exclaimed, — 

"  What,  Philemon,  are  you  going  out  ?  " 

"  For  ten  minutes  only,  then  I  will  return." 

"And  monsieur  —  who  is  here?" 

"  Hang  it !  I  don't  stand  on  ceremony  with 
M.  Calle,  he'll  willingly  permit  me  to  absent  myself 
for  a  moment." 

"  Oh,  monsieur,  as  long  as  you  like,  don't  put 
yourself  out  for  me." 

Vol.  xxiv 


I30  ADHEMAR 

"  Besides,  you  have  your  game,  play  it !  play  it 
—  make  the  five  hundred!  I  shall  soon  be  back." 

"  But  Philemon  —  " 

"  In  ten  minutes  I'll  be  here  !  " 

And  the  handsome  fair  man  escaped  with  his 
accomplice  Bruneau.  Nonore  heaved  a  deep  sigh, 
but  she  continued  to  play.  At  midnight  Calle  was 
still  playing  bezique  with  the  young  woman,  who 
had  won  four  francs  from  him,  but  was  beginning  to 
yawn.   When  the  clock  struck  twelve,  she  cried, — 

"  You  see,  monsieur,  what  my  husband  means 
by  being  absent  for  ten  minutes." 

"  He's  been  detained,  or  his  watch  is  wrong." 

"  No,  it  is  so  every  time  he  goes  out,  and  it  makes 
me  very  unhappy.  But  it  is  midnight,  and  I  will 
not  longer  abuse  your  kindness.  My  husband  was 
impolite  to  invite  you  and  then  go  out." 

"  Oh,madame,  I  assure  you  that  I  don't  mind  his 
going  —  all  the  more  because  —  " 

"  Good  evening,  M.  Calle." 

"  Madame,  I  have  the  honor  to  wish  you  good 
evening." 

And  the  young  man  left  without  being  able  to 
finish  his  compliment. 


CHAPTER  IX 

Drive  Away  Natural  Impulses,  They 
Return  at  a  Gallop 

A  MONTH  had  elapsed  since  Adhemar  had  made 
his  first  visit  to  Madame  Dermont ;  in  the  week 
that  followed  this  interview  he  had  called  on  her 
every  two  days,  and  later  on  he  had  not  allowed 
a  single  one  to  pass  without  seeing  her.  What 
had,  then,  passed  between  them  that  their  con- 
nection should  have  become  so  intimate?  It  seems 
to  me  that  you  ought  to  be  able  to  guess  that. 

Nathalie  had  immediately  captivated  Adhemar's 
heart ;  she  was  the  woman  for  whom  he  had  been 
looking,  whom  he  had  desired  to  meet,  whom  he 
ardently  desired  to  have  as  his  mistress,  and  whose 
love  he  craved  above  all  things ;  in  her  were  united 
all  the  qualities  he  had  hoped  and  wished  to  find 
in  a  sweetheart.  However,  he  had  sought  for  some 
time — not  a  very  long  time,  it  must  be  confessed  — 
to  struggle  against  the  inclination  of  his  heart ;  for 
in  proportion  as  he  felt  he  could  love  this  young 
woman  truly,  the  more  he  foresaw  that  he  should 
suffer  if  he  were  unfortunate  enough  to  evoke  only 
a  frivolous  sentiment  in  return  tor  a  sincere  love. 

Nathalie,  on  the  contrary,  had  not  sought  to 

131 


132  ADHfeMAR 

combat  the  feelings  which  Adhemar  inspired  in 
her.  A  widow,  and  entirely  her  own  mistress,  what 
reason  was  there  that  she  should  repulse  the  love 
which  she  read  in  his  eyes,  and  which  they  ex- 
pressed so  well  ?  A  coquettish  woman  might  per- 
haps have  deferred  for  a  long  time  the  moment  of 
her  submission ;  but  a  woman  who  really  loves 
opposes  but  a  feeble  resistance,  for  she  shares  the 
happiness  she  bestows. 

And  now  Adhemar  often  said  to  Nathalie, — 

"Is  it  really  quite  true  that  you  love  me  ?  " 

"  How  can  you  ask  me  that,  dear  ?  and  what 
further  proof  do  you  wish  me  to  give  as  to  my 
love  ?  " 

"  Pardon  me,  that  was  not  what  I  meant  to  say. 
I  fear  only  —  for  I  am  sometimes  not  as  agreeable 
as  I  should  be  —  I  fear  that  —  that  you  will  pres- 
ently cease  to  love  me." 

"  Ah,  how  ill  you  judge  me  !  Do  you  take  me, 
then,  for  one  of  those  women  for  whom  love  is  only 
a  caprice  and  never  a  feeling?  " 

"No,  no,  I  do  not  judge  you  thus  —  I  am 
wrong,  I  am  often  unjust  — 

"  You  fear  lest  I  should  not  always  find  you 
agreeable  —  what  folly  !  When  you  are  near  me 
I  am  happy  and  that  suffices  me.  You  may  be  as 
dreamy,  as  pensive,  as  serious,  even,  as  you  please 
—  if  I  do  but  see  you,  if  I  am  but  with  you,  I 
desire  nothing  more.  I  say  to  myself,  *  He  is 
thinking  of  his  work —  some  plot  perhaps;  I  must 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK         133 

not  disturb  him.  But  presently  he  will  return  to 
me,  he  will  become  conscious  that  I  am  with  him.'  " 

"  Nathalie,  I  love  you  so  much  —  sometimes 
it  seems  to  me  I  love  you  too  much." 

"  It's  impossible  to  love  too  much,  dear,  when 
one  inspires  as  much  love  as  one  gives.  Believe 
me,  you  do  not  go  one  step  farther  in  loving  than 
I  do." 

As  he  left  Madame  Dermont's,  Adhemar  said 
to  himself, — 

"  Yes,  she  really  loves  me  ;  indeed,  if  she  did 
not  love  me,  there  is  no  reason  why  she  should 
pretend  to  do  so.  What  motive  could  she  have 
in  deceiving  me  ?  She  is  not  guided  by  interest, 
she  does  not  wish  to  receive  the  slightest  present 
from  me  ;  she  has  positively  declared  that  she  will 
be  seriously  displeased  with  me  if  I  ever  offer  her 
anything  but  flowers.  *  I  have  money  enough  to 
gratify  all  my  tastes,  all  my  fancies,'  she  said  to 
me,  *  I  want  nothing  of  you  but  your  love  ;  the 
slightest  gift  on  your  part  would  be  distasteful  to 
me,  for  I  should  say,  "  He  thinks  I  need  that  to 
make  me  love  him."  '  I  must  obey  her.  Come,  I 
have  at  last  found  a  woman  who  will  not  betray 
me  !     It  is  miraculous." 

As  the  price  of  her  love,  Madame  Dermont 
asked  only  her  lover's  entire  confidence.  She 
would  not  admit  that  he  was  jealous,  and  often 
said  to  him,  "  It  is  offensive  to  the  one  you  love 
to  suspect  her,  and  since  you  are  quite  certain  that 


134  ADHEMAR 

I  love  you,  you  should  not  imagine  for  an  instant 
that  I  could  betray  you." 

Adhemar  thought  Natalie  perfectly  right,  but 
jealousy  is  a  feeling  that  one  cannot  command  ; 
one  is  born  jealous  as  one  is  born  quarrelsome,  or 
of  a  teasing  disposition,  or  a  coward.  Education 
may  teach  us  to  conceal  our  defects,  but  it  does 
not  destroy  them. 

One  morning,  on  going  to  Madame  Dermont's 
a  little  earlier  than  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
doing,  he  found  that  lady  with  an  expression  of 
care  on  her  face,  and  although  she  received  him 
with  her  usual  warmth  it  seemed  to  him  that  she 
was  distracted,  and  that  her  smile  was  not  as  frank 
as  usual.  He  looked  at  her  steadily,  he  fixed  his 
eyes  on  hers,  and  said  to  her, — 

"  You  are  vexed  at  something  this  morning,  are 
you  not  ? " 

"  I,  my  dear  ?  Why,  no,  I  assure  you." 
"  You  seem  preoccupied — are  you  in  trouble?" 
"  What  trouble  do  you  think  I  should  have  ? " 
"  I  don't  think  you  should  have  any,  but  I  ask 
you  if  you  have." 

"  My  dear,  so  long  as  you  love  me,  I  shall 
never  have  any." 

"  So  much  the  better,  for  you  will  never  have 
any,  in  that  case.  Are  you  unhappy  because  we 
are  not  always  together?  But  you  know  that  in  my 
absence  you  are  at  liberty  to  receive  any  one  you 
please." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       135 

"  My  dear,  you  are  mistaken,  you  are  never 
absent  from  me,  for  you  are  incessantly  in  my 
thoughts." 

Adhemar  pressed  his  lips  to  his  mistress'  hand. 
But  after  some  minutes  his  brow  clouded  and  draw- 
ing a  long  breath  he  exclaimed, — 

"  It  is  singular  !  " 

"  What  is  it  that  you  find  singular,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  The  smell  of  tobacco  there  is  here." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?     I  smell  nothing." 

"  Because  you  don't  want  to  smell  it.  There  is 
a  smell  of  tobacco,  and  of  bad  tobacco,  too.  One 
would  think  some  one  had  been  smoking  a  pipe 
here." 

Madame  Dermont  turned  away  her  head,  as  she 
answered, — 

"  It's  the  water  porter  who  has  brought  that 
smell  in  to  us,  perhaps." 

"  The  water  porter  !  I  don't  suppose  he  comes 
into  your  bedroom,  and  your  kitchen  is  quite  at  a 
distance.     Your  answer  is  not  a  happy  one." 

"  Good  heavens,  my  dear,  what  do  you  mean  by 
that.  My  answer  is  not  a  happy  one!  Surely,  you 
attach  no  importance  to  a  little  thing  Hke  that?" 

"  A  little  thing !  Well,  madame,  the  proverb 
says,  *There  is  no  fire  without  smoke'  —  and  con- 
sequently no  smell  of  tobacco  without  smoke.  I 
probably  came  too  soon  today." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  monsieur  ?  " 

"  I  mean — it  is  very  easy  to  understand  1  You 


136  ADHEMAR 

have  received  a  visit  from  some  one  who  smokes. 
Devil  take  it !  a  man  doesn't  stand  on  much  cere- 
mony with  a  lady  when  he  smokes  in  her  bedroom. 
Who  has  been  to  see  you  so  early?" 

Nathalie  walked  impatiently  about  her  room,  and 
muttered, — 

"  All  these  questions  because  of  an  odor  which 
may  come  from  a  neighbor's." 

"  Oh,  no,  besides,  you  have  no  neighbors  on  this 
side." 

"  And  is  this  all  the  confidence  you  have  in  me, 
Adhemar?  Did  you  not  tell  me,  ^I  shall  never  be 
jealous  '  ? " 

"  How  strange  women  are!  when  one  asks  them 
anything  they  reply  with  a  question,  which  is  only 
a  clever  way  of  not  answering  at  all.  Will  you  tell 
me  whom  you  received  this  morning,  who  did  not 
hesitate  to  smoke  in  your  house,  or  who,  at  any  rate, 
poisoned  it  with  the  smell  of  his  pipe." 

"  Nobody,  monsieur." 

"  Very  well,  madame.  I  came  too  early  today ;  it 
is  a  lesson  for  another  time.": 

And  taking  his  hat  Adhemar  quickly  left  Nathalie 
who  made  a  movement  to  restrain  him,  but  resisted 
her  desire  and  drew  back.  Adhemar,  as  he  went 
off,  said  to  himself, — 

"  She  certainly  did  receive  a  smoker,  although 
she  would  not  confess  it.  I  don't  assert  that  no 
one  should  call  on  her,  but  if  that  had  been  an 
innocent  visit,  she  would  not  have  denied  it.     So 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       137 

she  has  secrets,  and  from  me.  That  means  that 
she  is  deceiving  me.  She  is  no  better  than  the  rest. 
Ah,  I  should  have  expected  it !  Well,  it  is  all  done 
with ;  I  shan't  go  to  see  her  again." 

All  day  long  the  poor  jealous  lover  kept  repeat- 
ing these  words,  "  I  won't  go  to  see  her  again." 
And  he  went  into  society  and  to  the  cafes  and 
theatres,  and  did  all  that  was  possible  to  turn  his 
thoughts  from  her,  but  he  could  not  accomplish  it. 
The  next  day  he  was  very  dismal  indeed  and  said 
to  himself,  "  I  shan't  go  near  her.  What  a  pity 
that  I  should  love  her  so  much  more  than  I  have 
ever  loved  before.  That  is  what  makes  her  treachery 
so  shameful.  I  was  quite  right  to  wish  to  refrain 
from  attaching  myself  to  anyone." 

As  he  walked  along,  Adhemar  came  to  Madame 
Dermont's  house.  He  stopped  and  said  to  him- 
self, "  It's  all  a  matter  of  habit,  I  came  as  far  as 
here  without  being  aware  that  I  was  doing  so.  But 
I  shan't  go  in.  After  all  I  may  as  well  walk  this 
way  as  elsewhere.  I  will  look  up  at  her  windows, 
that  will  give  me  something  to  do." 

And  for  a  couple  of  hours  he  walked  in  front  of 
the  house,  looking  at  Nathalie's  windows ;  turning 
away  when  he  saw  some  one  at  the  casement  and 
sighing  when  he  saw  no  one.  Suddenly  someone 
tapped  him  on  the  shoulder;  it  was  one  of  his  col- 
leagues, who  said  to  him, — 

"  What  are  you  doing,  Adhemar  ?  are  you  trying 
to  unravel  a  plot  ?  to  work  out  a  denouement  ? " 


138  adh£mar 

"  By  Jove,  yes  —  I  was  thinking  of  a  new  sub- 
ject." 

"  Come  with  me — you  shall  unfold  your  idea  to 
me  as  we  walk  along." 

"  I'm  quite  willing  to  accompany  you,  but  I  am 
afraid  I  can't  tell  you  anything,  for  you  would  want 
to  have  something  to  do  with  the  piece." 

"Well,  what  of  that?     I  should  do  my  part." 

"  Thank  you,  I  know  you,  you  do  nothing  but 
lounge  about,  you  say  disagreeable  things,  you 
pick  your  comrades  to  pieces,  you  think  everything 
bad  that  is  done  by  others,  and  you  produce  noth- 
ing yourself." 

"  You're  really  very  nice  this  morning,  I  am  the 
author  of  several  pieces,  however,  which  have  had 
quite  a  success  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  am  well  aware  of  that,  but  that  doesn't 
prove  that  you  had  anything  to  do  with  them.  We 
know  how  such  things  are  done  in  the  theatres 
now,  all  the  intriguing  and  scheming  that  goes  on 
in  them." 

"  You  are  in  a  very  bad  temper  today  !  Do  you 
know  that  I  could  demand  satisfaction  for  what  you 
are  saying  to  me  ?  " 

"  I  am  at  your  orders.  Would  you  like  to  fight  ? 
I  ask  nothing  better." 

"  And  I  have  no  desire  to  do  so.  You  are  in  a 
bad  temper  —  I  am  not.  You  are  seeking  a  quar- 
rel—  I  am  seeking  a  pleasure  party.    Good-by." 

"  He  is  right,"  thought  Adhemar,  when  his  com- 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       139 

rade  had  departed.  "  I  am  in  an  evil  mood  —  be- 
cause she  has  made  me  unhappy.  For  it  is  always 
the  women  who  are  at  the  bottom  of  all  ourmoods." 

The  next  day,  after  hesitating  for  a  long  time, 
Adhemar  could  contain  himself  no  longer.  He 
could  not  resist  the  desire  he  felt  to  see  her  whom 
he  was  trying  in  vain  to  forget.  He  said  to  him- 
self, "  The  idea  of  getting  angry  and  breaking  with 
her,  all  because  of  a  smell  of  tobacco  ;  —  which, 
after  all,  might  come  from  the  neighbors  —  why, 
that  wasn't  common  sense."  He  did  not  run,  he 
flew  to  Madame  Dermont's,  he  did  not  give  the 
servant  time  to  warn  her  mistress,  but  entered  pre- 
cipitately. Nathalie  was  alone,  but  her  eyes  were 
red,  and  there  were  still  tears  in  them.  Adhemar 
threw  himself  at  her  feet,  and  snatching  her  hands 
and  covering  them  with  kisses  said, — 

"  Forgive  me  !  forgive  me  !  I  have  caused  you 
grief.     Please,  forgive  me." 

"  Three  days  without  coming  to  see  me.  Oh, 
my  dear,  is  that  how  you  love  me  ! " 

"  Why,  yes,  I  do  love  you  —  adore  you,  and 
that  is  why  I  am  jealous." 

"  I  had  forbidden  you  to  be  so,  and  you  had 
promised  me." 

"  I  am  guilty  —  yes  —  since  I  have  caused  your 
tears  to  flow." 

"  I  said  to  myself,  *  It  is  all  ended,  he  will  come 
nore. 
As  if  I  could  possibly  stay  away !  as  if  I  could 


I40  ADHEMAR 

exist  without  you  !     But  let  us  forget  this  storm ! 
You  will  pardon  me,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course.  But  take  my  advice,  and  don't 
give  way  to  your  jealous  feelings.  Suspicion  galls 
the  most  loving  heart." 

"  It  won't  occur  again ;  I  am  cured." 

So  peace  was  made,  and  the  most  perfect  accord 
reigned  again  between  these  two  persons,  who 
seemed  made  to  love  each  other.  A  fortnight  had 
passed  since  the  reconciliation  when  the  accursed 
odor  of  tobacco  again  became  evident  at  Madame 
Dermont's,when  her  lover  came  in  to  see  her  dur- 
ing the  day.  Adhemar  said  nothing.  He  did  not 
wish  to  appear  as  if  he  had  even  noticed  the  smell 
of  a  pipe.  He  tried  to  be  cheerful,  amiable,  as  was 
his  custom,  but  in  spite  of  himself  he  was  absent- 
minded,  he  often  answered  at  cross-purposes  what 
NathaHe  said  to  him.  The  latter,  who  guessed  the 
cause  of  his  preoccupation,  looked  embarrassed. 

However,  Adhemar  had  prolonged  his  visit,  and 
had  been  for  some  time  at  Madame  Dermont's, 
when,  as  he  looked  about  him,  he  perceived  some 
object  on  the  floor,  lying  near  the  long  curtain 
which  draped  the  window,  partly  covered,  but  not 
entirely  hidden  by  it.  The  object,  rather  singu- 
lar in  form,  attracted  the  curiosity  of  our  author, 
and,  seizing  a  moment  when  Nathalie  was  arrang- 
ing her  flowers,  he  quickly  went  and  picked  up  that 
which  he  had  seen  ;  he  was  stupefied  on  seeing 
that  it  was  a  pipe  case. 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       141 

"  You  cannot  tell  me  this  time  that  you  do  not 
receive  a  smoker,"  exclaimed  Adhemar  in  a  voice 
stifled  by  anger. 

"  Why,  whatever  is  the  matter,  my  dear  ? "  said 
Nathalie,  leaving  her  flowers. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  By  Jove,  a  very  trifling 
thing!  Here,  madame,  is  what  I  have  just  picked 
up  —  there  beside  your  window,  where,  no  doubt, 
you  hoped  it  would  be  well  hid." 

"  And  what  is  it,  monsieur  ?  " 

"  You  don't  know  what  it  is,  madame  ?  " 

"No, I  assure  you  that  I  cannot  even  guess  what 
It  is. 

"  Well,  it  is  a  pipe  case  —  a  very  ugly  case ; 
poisonous,  in  fact.  The  pipe  is  not  in  it,  probably 
because  the  person  to  whom  it  belongs  has  gone 
out  to  smoke  it." 

Nathalie  reddened,  her  brow  became  overcast 
with  gloom,  but  she  remained  silent.  Adhemar's 
anger  increased,  he  examined  the  case  again,  then 
he  presented  it  to  the  young  woman. 

"  Wait,  madame,  take  it  and  give  it  back  to  the 
one  to  whom  it  belongs.  Ah,  I  wasn't  wrong  the 
other  day  when  I  accused  you  of  receiving  a 
smoker." 

"Well,  monsieur,  what  of  that?  all  the  men 
smoke  now  !  " 

"  All  the  men.  Oh,  you  confess  now  that  you 
did  receive  a  man  —  and  in  your  bedroom.  Who 
is  this  man  ?    Where  does  he  come  from  ?   Where 


142  ADHEMAR 

does  he  go  to  ?  What  does  he  come  here  for  ?  and 
how  long  has  he  been  coming  ?  Answer  me  those 
questions,  if  you  please,  madame  !  " 

"  No,  monsieur,  no ;  I  will  not  answer  when 
anyone  questions  me  as  you  are  doing  now." 

"  Oh,  I  understand —  that  is  the  best  way  out 
of  it.  When  these  ladies  can't  find  a  prevarication 
quickly  enough,  they  retrench  themselves  in  their 
dignity.  But  while  that  may  do  for  simpletons, 
I  hope  you  don't  confuse  me  with  them  —  I  have 
too  much  self-respect ! " 

"  Adhemar,  what  you  are  saying  is  very  wrong ! 
Is  that  the  way  you  keep  your  promises  ? " 

"  Madame,  one  is  never  jealous  without  reason. 
I  was  right  the  other  time,  today  I  have  proof  of  it. 
You  have  intrigues,  madame ;  and  when  a  woman 
has  intrigues,  when  she  secretly  receives  men  — 
one  knows  very  well  what  that  means  — " 

"  Oh,  monsieur  !  " 

"  You  have  deceived  me  like  the  others,  I  ought 
to  have  expected  it.  But  I  thought  I  had  met  some 
one  who  was  better  this  time.  Oh,  the  women. 
But  it  is  ended ;  hereafter  I  shall  not  be  a  dupe.'* 

Adhemar  threw  the  fatal  pipe  case  on  the  floor, 
then  he  went  out  without  looking  at  Nathalie. 


CHAPTER   X 

A  Young  Man  Who  Did  Not  Smoke 

You  are  aware  that  after  the  famous  dinner  given 
by  M.  Mirotaine,  when  Dubotte  had  recognized, 
in  the  so-called  Italian  count,  a  former  apothecary 
of  Pontoise,  the  latter  had  immediately  left  the 
company,  and  a  very  short  time  thereafter  M.  Fan- 
fan  Dodichet  had  done  the  same,  announcing  that 
he  was  going  to  challenge  Miflores,  who,  he  said, 
had  deceived  him  in  saying  he  was  a  bachelor. 
But  once  outside  the  Mirotaines'  doors,  instead 
of  seeking  M.  Seringat,  whom  he  expected  to  find 
easily  enough  the  next  day  at  his  own  house,  Do- 
dichet betook  himself  to  M.  Lucien  Grischard's, 
for  he  was  desirous  of  telling  that  young  man  at 
once  all  that  he  had  done  in  behalf  of  his  love 
affairs. 

When  he  arrived  at  the  Quai  Jemmapes  by  the 
Faubourg  du  Temple  bridge,  Dodichet  said  to  him- 
self, "At  which  corner  of  the  Faubourg  is  it?  To 
the  right  ?  or  to  the  left  ?  I  forgot  to  ask  him. 
No  matter,  I  can  go  to  both.  On  the  right  used 
to  be,  so  they  tell  me,  the  famous  Vendanges  de 
Bourgogne,a  caterer's,  renowned  for  its  sheep's  trot- 
ters, and  which  formerly  was  in  great  request  for 


144  ADHfiMAR 

weddings  and  festive  occasions.  *Sic  transit  gloria 
mundi ! '  To  the  left  there  were  formerly,  1  think, 
only  marshes.  Let's  begin  on  the  left.  I  can't 
count  on  Lucien's  being  in,  a  bachelor  does  not 
stay  in  his  chamber  in  the  evening  —  often,  even, 
he  goes  out  during  the  day  and  sometimes  is  not 
there  at  night.  But,  never  mind,  perhaps  they  can 
tell  me  to  what  cafe  he  has  the  habit  of  going  to 
smoke,  for  it  is  impossible  that  he  should  not  smoke 
somewhere." 

And  in  the  first  house  where  Dodichet  inquired 
for  Lucien  Grischard  they  answered  him, — 

"Yes,  he  lives  here,  monsieur." 

"  Oh,  he  lives  here!  Very  good  !  And  where 
can  one  find  him  in  the  evening  ? " 

"Why,  at  home,  monsieur." 

"  What !  he  stays  at  home  in  the  evening  —  he 
doesn't  go  out  ? " 

"  Very  rarely,  monsieur  —  " 

"  Then,  where  is  he  now  ?  " 

"  Go  up  to  the  sixth  floor,  the  door  to  the  left — 
you  will  find  him  at  home." 

Dodichet  as  he  ascended  the  stairs  muttered  to 
himself, — 

"  A  strange  fellow  this,  to  stay  at  home  in  the 
evening!  Still,  he  may  receive  ladies  here  —  but, 
yet,  it  is  hardly  likely." 

When  he  got  to  the  sixth  floor,  Dodichet  knocked 
at  the  door  that  had  been  indicated  to  him,  and  a 
voice  cried, — 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      145 

"  Come  in,  the  key's  outside." 

Dodichet  opened  the  door,  and  found  himself  in 
a  small  room  with  a  very  sloping  ceiling.  An  un- 
curtained bed,  a  large  table  which  served  as  a  desk, 
two  chairs  and  a  mirror  comprised  almost  all  the 
furniture ;  however,  the  room  had  quite  the  appear- 
ance of  being  very  well  furnished,  for  on  all  sides 
the  walls  were  lined  with  shelves  —  like  those  of  a 
library  ;  only,  instead  of  books,  one  saw  on  these 
shelves  a  series  of  little  cardboard  boxes  all  of  equal 
size.  Then  on  the  table  were  a  great  many  more, 
but  the  latter  were  empty,  and  at  this  moment 
Lucien,  seated  in  front  of  the  table,  was  busied  in 
placing  in  these  boxes  big  black  safety  pins,  of  which 
he  had  before  him  an  immense  quantity.  Theyoung 
dealer  had  on  as  a  dressing-gown  a  flannel  jacket, 
patched  in  several  places,  and  wore  on  his  head  a 
kind  of  cap  that  was  minus  its  vizor.  A  small 
lamp  did  poor  service  in  lighting  this  retreat;  how- 
ever, Lucien  immediately  recognized  his  visitor, 
and  thus  greeted  him, — 

"  Hallo  !  Dodichet !  What  lucky  chance  gives 
me  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  ?  I  did  not  expect  it ! " 

"  I  am  quite  sure  you  did  not.  But  I  greatly 
prefer  to  go  where  I  am  not  expected.  So  this  is 
your  lodging,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  dear  fellow  !  " 

"And  there's  just  this  one  room,  and  that  is  all?" 

"  Absolutely  all.  That  is  quite  enough  for  a  sin- 
gle man." 

Vol.  XXIV 


146  ADHfeMAR 

"  Quite  enough  !  you  are  not  very  difficult  to 
please.      But  where  are  you  going  to  put  me  ?  " 

"  Wherever  you  like  !  " 

"Wherever  I  like!     But  I  don't  see  a  chair." 

"  Why,  yes,  I've  got  two  of  them.  Wait —  the 
other  is  hidden  under  my  clothing,  it  serves  as  a 
bureau.     I'll  take  the  things  off  it." 

Lucien  carried  the  clothing  from  the  chair  to  the 
bed,  then  he  returned  to  his  occupation,  saying  to 
his  visitor, — 

"Now,  sit  down,  and  tell  me  what  brought  you 
here.  As  for  me  I  shall  go  on  with  my  work,  for 
it  is  pressing." 

"  Oh,  don't  bother  about  me,  I  shall  go  on  all 
right.  You've  got  confoundedly  little  room  here! 
What  the  devil  are  you  doing  there  ?  " 

"As  you  see  I'm  putting  these  pins  in  the  boxes. 
I  have  to  lay  them  carefully  so  there  are  the  same 
number  in  each  box." 

"  And  does  this  business  bring  you  in  a  little 
something  ? " 

"  Oh,  so-so,  but  It  looks  as  though  it  was  going 
to  take.  Why,  my  fortune  would  have  been  made 
had  I,  like  Roziere  of  Romainville,  known  how  to 
discover  all  that  they  can  do  with  panama." 

"  Panama  ?  why  they  make  a  kind  of  straw  hat 
there,  don't  they  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  Roziere  has  invented  a  soap  that  will 
clean  those  hats  and  a  good  many  other  things 
besides." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       147 

When  he  had  taken  his  seat  Dodichet  ex- 
claimed,— 

"  First  of  all,  before  I  tell  you  what  brought  me 
here,  let  me  have  a  whiff  or  two  of  your  clay.  I'm 
dying  for  a  smoke. 

"  My  clay  ?  " 

"  Yes,  your  pipe,  if  you  like  that  better." 

"  But  I  haven't  a  pipe." 

"  You  haven't  a  pipe  ?  you  surprise  me  !  It's 
so  much  cheaper  than  cigars.  Well,  then,  give 
me  a  cigar ;  and  let  it  be  a  dry  one." 

"  I  have  no  more  cigars  than  I  have  a  pipe." 

"The  devil  you  haven't!  It  seems  I've  taken 
you  napping ;  in  that  case,  pass  me  your  tobacco 
pouch  and  I'll  make  myself  a  cigarette." 

"  I'm  awfully  sorry,  my  dear  Dodichet,  to  be 
obliged  to  refuse  you  again,  but  I  haven't  a  scrap 
of  tobacco  here." 

"  No  tobacco  !  you  haven't  any  tobacco  !  Well, 
that  is  a  rum  go  !  What  do  you  smoke — the  straw 
out  of  your  mattress  ?  For  of  course  you  must 
smoke  something." 

"  And  why  so  ?  As  It  happens  I  don't  smoke  at 
all ;  I  have  neither  the  time  for  it  nor  the  desire 
—  and,  frankly,  I  don't  see  the  necessity  of  so 
doing." 

"  You  don't  smoke  ?  at  your  age  ?  you  must 
get  awfully  bored." 

"  That's  where  you  mistake.  I  am  never  bored, 
for  I  am  always  at  work.     Why  do  so  many  men 


148  ADHEMAR 

smoke  ?  Why,  because  they  do  nothing  and  time 
hangs  on  their  hands  and  seems  deathly  long ;  so 
these  people  smoke  and  imagine  they  are  doing 
something,  have  an  occupation.  A  poor  occupa- 
tion indeed !  which  only  serves  to  encourage  idle- 
ness ! 

"  Oh,  come  now,  Lucien,  you  bore  me  with  your 
reflection  on  smokers  !  " 

"My  dear  fellow,  it  wasn't  necessary  for  you  to 
tell  me  I  was  very  unlucky  not  to  smoke,  I  an- 
swered and  that  was  all ;  I  will  add,  however,  that 
I  think  those  men  unfortunate  who  are  incessantly 
smoking,  who  always  have  a  pipe  or  a  cigar  in  their 
mouths.  In  the  first  place,  they  smell  very  bad;  in 
the  second,  they  injure  their  lungs  and  then  they 
spend  a  good  deal  of  money  —  it  seems  nothing 
because  it  is  spent  a  trifle  at  a  time,  but  the  most 
trifling  sum  repeatedly  disbursed  comes  to  a  good 
round  sum  at  the  end  of  the  year.  It  is  among 
workmen  that  this  mania  for  smoking  is  the  most 
fatal,  and  it  has  impoverished  many  households." 

"  If  you  think  that  you  are  likely  to  correct 
smokers  with  your  preaching,  you  are  devilishly 
deceived." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  pretend  to  correct  or  convince 
anyone,  I'm  merely  stating  my  opinion — opinions 
are  free ! " 

"  Besides,  look  you,  Lucien,  when  once  one  has 
got  into  the  habit  of  smoking,  one  cannot  give 
it  up!" 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       149 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  dear  fellow  !  one  can 
give  up  any  habit  if  one  has  only  a  strong  enough 
will ;  if  it  were  otherwise  I  should  have  to  believe 
that  men  are  but  maniacs,  machines,  automatons, 
who  are  obliged  always  to  make  the  same  gestures; 
and,  really,  it  would  make  me  sorry  for  humanity. 
I  have  not  said  anything  as  to  the  fires  and  all  the 
accidents  caused  by  the  carelessness  of  smokers. 
Why,  Mademoiselle  Juliette  Mirotaine  has  a  friend 
whose  gown  was  set  afire  on  the  boulevard  by  a 
match  which  some  smoker  had  thrown  down  with- 
out taking  the  trouble  of  stepping  on  it." 

"  I  always  step  on  them  myself.  But  let's  say 
no  more  about  it.  Come  now,  haven't  you  a  scrap 
of  tobacco  in  your  pouch  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  even  a  pouch.  What  the  devil  do 
you  think  I  should  do  with  one  ?  " 

"  He  hasn't  even  a  pouch!  Hear  him,  ye  gods! 
nor  launch  your  thunders  forth !  Well,  when  I  leave 
here  I'm  going  to  see  some  ladies  —  do  you  hear? 
And  I'm  quite  sure  they'll  have  some  tobacco." 

"  I  don't  doubt  it — there  are  a  good  many  ladies 
who  smoke  now." 

"Yes,  my  dear  fellow,  you  may  shrug  your 
shoulders  as  much  as  you  will  —  the  fair  sex  is  in 
favor  of  tobacco." 

"  There  are  different  categories." 

"  Well,  we'll  drop  that — I  am  going  to  be  brief. 
My  dear  fellow  I've  just  been  rendering  you  an 
eminent  service." 


I50  ADHfiMAR 

"You?     How  is  that?" 

"  I've  just  this  moment  come  from  M.  Miro- 
taine's,  where  I've  dined." 

"  By  Jove  !  you  make  me  shudder  !  " 

"  Rejoice,  on  the  contrary !  I  saw  the  dealer 
in  toilet  articles,  and  I  told  her  that  I  had  a  very 
rich  friend  to  marry  and  that  he  did  not  require  a 
dowry." 

"  I  begged  you  not  to  do  anything  of  the  kind." 

"  Yes,  but  I  didn't  listen  to  you,  and  I  was  quite 
right  not  to  do  so,  for  everything  went  off  as  well 
as  possible." 

"  And  whom  did  you  present  as  the  would-be 
husband  ? " 

"  Some  one  who  could  refuse  me  nothing,  who 
was  willing  to  play  any  role  that  I  wished  —  be- 
cause I  possessed  a  certain  secret.  Ha,  ha,  ha ! 
that  poor  chap  Miflores-Seringat;  or  Seringat-Mi- 
flores  —  that  was  indeed  a  pigeon  that  Providence 
sent  to  me  to  pluck  just  at  the  right  moment." 

"  Come,  make  an  end  of  it,  what  took  place  at 
M.  Mirotaine's  ? " 

"  We  dined  fairly  well,  save  that  the  vin  ordin- 
aire was  pretty  thin  and  the  champagne  more  like 
*  Roge's '  purgative  lemonade  than  wine,  and  that 
the  vanilla  cream  was  flavored  with  camphor  instead 
of  sugar.  My  false  count  did  not  say  a  word,  he 
confined  himself  to  eating  ;  but  as  I  had  forewarned 
them  that  he  wished  to  study  and  observe  the 
young  lady  before  making  his  proposal,  everything 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       151 

was  going  along  very  nicely  Indeed;  but  after  dinner, 
while  they  were  picking  up  the  radishes  and  gher- 
kins which  that  miserly  Mirotaine  had  hidden  in 
his  pockets,  along  came  Dubotte  with  his  wife.  A 
pretty  little  fair  woman,  by  Jove!  And  if  Dubotte 
did  not  find  an  old  acquaintance  in  my  false  count, 
and  say  to  him,  ^Good-day,  M.  Seringat,  and  how 
is  your  wife?'  You  can  imagine  the  stage  effect  of 
the  situation.  Papa  Mirotaine  was  furious ;  the 
dealer  in  toilet  articles  was  confused,  the  guests 
were  looking  at  each  other  in  astonishment,  and 
my  pretended  aspirant  for  matrimonial  honors  took 
a  very  hasty  leave,  consigning  to  his  infernal  ma- 
jesty the  one  who  had  inquired  about  his  wife.  In 
the  midst  of  all  this  disorder,  I  was  hard  put  to  it 
to  refrain  from  laughing.  M.  Mirotaine  questioned 
me  rather  angrily,  but  I  took  a  higher  tone  than  he; 
I  declared  that  Miflores  had  played  me  a  trick, 
deceived  me,  and  that  I  was  going  in  search  of  him 
to  call  him  out.  I  left,  and  here  I  am.  Well,  what 
do  you  say  to  that?" 

"  I  say  you  were  wrong  to  play  such  a  farce,  and 
I  fear  it  has  done  me  more  harm  than  good." 

"  Why,  no,  on  the  contrary,  the  old  miser,  dis- 
gusted with  suitors  whom  he  does  not  know,  will 
receive  no  more  of  them  and  will  decide  to  give  you 
his  daughter." 

"I  have  no  hope  that  events  will  transpire  as 
you  suggest." 

"  You  are  ungrateful.     If  one  tries   to  oblige 


152  ADHEMAR 

people,  this  is  how  they  recompense  one  ;  and  you 
can't  even  give  me  a  bit  of  tobacco." 

"  My  dear  Dodichet,  you  wished  to  be  of  service 
to  me,  no  doubt,  and  I  thank  you  for  it ;  but,  I 
repeat  to  you,  I  am  not  at  all  sure  as  to  the  results 
of  your  unpleasant  joke." 

"  If  you  smoked  you  wouldn't  be  so  frightened. 
Good-by,  you  virtuous,  steady  fellow,  indefatigable 
worker;  good-by,  extraordinary  man,  who  does  not 
smoke.     You  are  out  of  place  in  this  century." 

"  That  is  possible,  but  I  firmly  believe  a  century 
will  come  when  the  French,  returned  to  their  old 
gallant  ways  and  nice  personal  habits,  will  wonder 
how  their  ancestors  could  have  smoked  so  much." 

"  Good-by,  I  must  fly  now  in  search  of  my 
treasury — he  is  indispensably  necessary  to  me  just 
now,  for  the  waters  are  at  a  very  low  ebb  indeed, 
and  I  want  to  buy  a  dazzling  costume  in  which  to 
make  my  debut  in  the  part  of  *  Joconde.' " 

"At  the  Opera  Comique?" 

"  No,  at  Quimper-Corentin." 

Lucien  settled  down  again  to  the  work  of  putting 
his  pins  in  their  boxes,  reflecting  on  all  that  Dodi- 
chet had  made  known  to  him,  and  he  said  to  him- 
self, "  It  will  be  prudent  of  me  to  allow  several 
days  to  pass  before  presenting  myself  at  M.  Miro- 
taine's  ;  he  must  be  very  angry  at  having  been 
taken  in  like  that ;  I'll  give  his  anger  time  to  cool, 
and  let  him  forget  the  events  of  this  day,  that  he 
may  not  guess  that  I  know  anything  about  it." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       153 

But  during  the  week  which  passed  before  Lucien 
went  to  the  Mirotaines',  Dubotte  had  given  a 
dinner  to  young  Calle,  and,  as  we  have  seen,  dur- 
ing the  meal  he  had  informed  his  guest  how  it  came 
about  that  Dodichet  had  had  the  idea  of  present- 
ing a  suitor  for  Mademoiselle  Juliette;  that  it  was 
in  the  hope  of  aiding  his  friend  Lucien  in  his  love 
affairs.  Young  Calle,  who  was  a  tattle-bearer,  as 
people  who  have  nothing  to  do  nearly  always  are, 
had  not  failed  to  let  Aldegonde  know  all  that  he 
had  learned  at  Dubotte's,  and  the  stepmother  had 
told  her  husband ;  the  papa  had  made  a  scene  with 
his  daughter,  exclaiming, — 

"  You  were  in  connivance  with  these  scamps, 
these  scoundrels  who  cheated  me  out  of  a  dinner, 
and  it  was  your  Lucien  who  urged  them  to  play 
this  scene  for  my  benefit,  which  would  be  punish- 
able at  the  Court  of  Assizes.  When  I  see  him  I 
shall  treat  him  as  he  deserves." 

Juliette  had  in  vain  protested,  sworn  to  her  father 
that  she  knew  nothing  at  all  about  it,  that  Lucien 
was  incapable  of  having  imagined  the  mischievous 
joke  which  they  had  allowed  themselves.  M.  Miro- 
taine  was  convinced  to  the  contrary,  and  when  two 
days  later  poor  Lucien  called  on  the  father  of  his 
beloved,  humble  and  smiling,  to  inquire  as  to  his 
health,  M.  Mirotaine  assumed  a  furious  expression 
and  pushed  him  towards  the  door,  saying, — 

"  My  health !  Do  you  dare  to  come  and  inquire 
about  my  health  —  after  making  sport  of  me  in  a 


154  adh£mar 

fashion  that  has  made  me  ill.  You  are  bold  indeed 
to  dare  to  face  me  again." 

Lucien  quite  overwhelmed,  stammered, — 

"  Why,  monsieur,  what  have  I  done?  —  for  you 
to  treat  me  thus  ?  " 

"  What  have  you  done  ?  you  may  pretend  to  be 
ignorant  of  it,  but  I  am  not  to  be  deceived  by  you, 
monsieur !  And  the  dinner  they  forced  me  to  give 
them,  a  dinner  of  eleven  covers  —  three  courses  ! 
my  old  bordeaux,  and  for  an  Italian  count  who  was 
nothing  but  an  apothecary  and  whom  that  Dodi- 
chet  put  forward  as  a  millionnaire  in  search  of  a  wife 
—  and  he  was  only  from  Pontoise — and  the  coffee 
and  liqueurs!  your  friend  Dodichet  took  brandy 
three  times.  Do  you  deny  that  he  is  your  friend,  and 
that  he  thought  of  this  unworthy  comedy  in  the  hope 
of  helping  your  love  affair  with  my  daughter?" 

"  If  Dodichet  did  that  to  render  me  a  service 
I  swear  to  you,  upon  my  honor,  monsieur,  that 
he  did  it  against  my  wishes,  and  that  I  had,  on 
the  contrary,  forbidden  him  to  allow  himself  to 
take  the  slightest  liberties  with  you." 

"  Tell  that  to  others,  monsieur,  tell  that  to  others ! 
You  confess  that  this  Dodichet  is  one  of  your 
friends,  that  is  quite  sufficient  for  me  to  say  that 
you  shall  not  put  your  foot  in  my  house  again." 

"  Why,  monsieur,  my  intentions  are  honorable, 
you  know  that,  and  my  business  in  pins  doesn't 
go  badly ;  I  shall  be  able,  I  hope,  to  materially 
increase  it." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       155 

"  Yes,  yes  !  You  may  get  it  extolled  and  praised 
by  your  good  friends,  but  I  shan't  be  taken  in  by 
you  —  be  off  with  you,  and  you  need  not  think  of 
coming  to  my  house  again,  for  you  won't  be  re- 
ceived." 

M.  Mirotaine  pushed  the  young  man  on  to  the 
landing  and  violently  shut  the  door  on  him.  Then 
Lucien  departed,  muttering, "  I  shall  never  more 
see  Juliette,  nor  shall  I  be  able  to  talk  to  her  again  ! 
Ah,  Dodichet,  what  a  confoundedly  bad  turn  you 
have  done  me." 

On  leaving  Lucien's,  Dodichet  first  of  all  bought 
some  tobacco,  then  he  went  on  to  Mademoiselle 
Boulotte's,  where  he  was  to  meet  Rosa,  for  these 
damsels  had  been  instructed  as  to  the  farce  that  was 
to  be  played  at  M.  Mirotaine's,  and  as  they  were 
extremely  anxious  to  learn  how  it  turned  out,  Dodi- 
chet had  promised  to  meet  them  and  tell  them  all 
about  it  that  same  evening. 

The  two  dancers  were  smoking  and  drinking 
grog,  and  Boulotte's  room,  although  somewhat 
larger  than  that  of  Lucien,  was  so  filled  with 
smoke  that  one  could  hardly  see  across  it,  which 
did  not  prevent  Dodichet  from  uttering  a  shout  in 
joyous  admiration  of  the  picture  which  met  his 
gaze,— 

"  Bravo  !  bravo!  this  is  something  like  life.  I've 
just  left  a  man  who  is  not  a  man  —  he  does  not 
smoke ;  but  here,  on  the  contrary,  I  find  women 
who  can  smoke  like  troopers  —  that  suits  me." 


156  ADHEMAR 

«  Why,  it's  Dodichet !    How  do,  Dodichet !  " 

"  Good-day,  young  caperers,  have  you  any  cigar- 
ette papers  ?  " 

"  What  a  question,  we  would  rather  go  without 
bread." 

"  You  are  right,  my  question  was  out  of  place ; 
your  education  is  perfected.  Give  me  some  of 
your  papers.    What  are  you  drinking  there  ?  " 

"  Some  grog  —  common  brandy  grog." 

"  I'll  accept  several  glasses  of  it.  Rosa,  be  kind 
enough  to  mix  it  for  me,  while  Boulotte,  who  has 
a  sconce  for  making  cigarettes,  goes  and  prepares 
me  several.  Mesdemoiselles,  I  am  thirsty  for 
smoke." 

"  Well,  it  seems  to  me  you  have  only  to  open 
your  mouth,  there's  plenty  of  it  here." 

"  You  don't  understand  me,  my  young  Andalu- 
sian,  I  meant  to  say  that  I  need  to  smoke  myself, 
and  I've  just  come  from  the  place  of  a  man  who 
doesn't  smoke." 

"  Good  heavens  !  where  does  he  come  from,  that 
kind  of  a  bird." 

"  He  doesn't  come,  he  always  stays  at  home  — 
he  is  in  love.  He  thinks  of  his  sweetheart,  and 
that  stands  to  him  in  the  place  of  a  pipe." 

"  What  sort  of  a  girl  is  his  sweetheart  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  I  didn't  ask  him." 

"  Well,  what  about  this  betrothal  scene  at 
M.  Mirotaine's,  this  marriage  a  la  Putiphar  ?  " 

"  Everything  went  off  first  rate  ;  only  this  even- 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      157 

ing  one  of  my  friends,  Phoebus  Dubotte —  I've 
nicknamed  him  Phoebus  because  he  is  fair  and  pre- 
tentious —  Phoebus  arrived  with  his  wife.  He  found 
that  he  knew  the  individual  whom  I  had  intro- 
duced as  an  Italian  count." 

"The  one  who  lends  you  money  because  you 
know  a  secret  which  concerns  him,  and  before 
whom  we  must  not  speak  of  Pontoise  ?  " 

"  Exactly,  Boulotte,  you  have  as  good  a  mem- 
ory as  a  creditor.  Why,  Phoebus  spoke  of  Pon- 
toise in  calling  my  Miflores  by  his  right  name. 
So  you  may  judge  of  the  scene  produced  by  this 
recognition  —  pass  me  a  cigarette.  The  Miro- 
taines  were  furious  —  Putiphar  would  have  liked 
to  see  me  flogged.  My  false  count  escaped,  and 
I  followed  him,  vowing  that  I  would  make  my 
sword  acquainted  with  his  anatomy.  The  denoue- 
ment of  our  little  comedy  was  cut  rather  short; 
but  it  had  to  end,  and  I  was  beginning  to  have  had 
enough  of  the  Mirotaine's  society.  They  had, 
however,  some  very  good  types  there.  One  was 
M.Brid'oIson,whowas  lost  in  admiration  of  his  son, 
whom  he  urged  to  gymnastic  efforts  to  everybody's 
discomfort ;  his  wife  chewed  her  hair,  and  a  sister 
of  the  host  was  weeping  all  over  the  place  because 
she  had  been  hit  in  the  eye  with  a  pickled  onion." 

"  And  the  dinner,  was  it  good  ?  " 

"  A  skinflint's  dinner  —  bad  wine,  no  truffles, 
cream  flavored  with  camphor,'* 

"  With  camphor  ? " 


158  ADHEMAR 

"  Yes,  in  place  of  sugar ;  I  don't  advise  you  to 
make  use  of  it,  for  it  does  not  replace  the  sugar 
advantageously.  Finally,  the  trick  is  done,  and 
I've  just  left  Lucien  after  telling  him  how  I  had 
served  his  love  affairs." 

"  He  thanked  you  heartily,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  he  scolded  me,  and  then 
preached  me  a  sermon  on  tobacco  !  Pass  me  a 
cigarette.  Now  I  must  rejoin  my  Miflores,  for  I 
need  money.  I've  seen  a  dramatic  agent  and  he 
tells  me  they  are  expecting  me  at  Quimper-Cor- 
entin,  where  they  need  a  young  first  tenor.  I  am 
young — I  have  a  pleasing  personal  appearance, 
and  a  sufficiently  good  voice.  I  give  the  chest 
*soL"' 

"The  'sol'?  Why  that  is  pot  an  *  ut,'  that 
isn  t. 

"  I  know  perfectly  well.  Mademoiselle  Rosa, 
that  a  '  sol '  is  not  an  *  ut,'  or  rather  a  *do,'  to  speak 
more  elegantly ;  but  a  very  high  chest  *  sol '  is  quite 
pretty,  too ;  and,  besides,  if  the  public  is  not  pleased 
I  shall  say  to  it,  *  Oh,  you  be  hanged,'  and  that 
will  be  satisfactory." 

"  And  what  part  shall  you  come  out  in  ?  " 

"  In  that  of  Joconde.     I'm  to  sing, — 

Long  I've  wandered  through  the  world, 

as  if  that  was  the  only  thing  I'd  been  doing." 

"  Do  they  play  comic  operas  then  at  Quimper- 
Corentin  ?  " 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       159 

"Why, my  dear  Rosa,  where  do  you  come  from? 
Don't  you  know  that  since  the  theatres  have  had 
their  freedom  they  play  all  sorts  of  things,  and  no 
matter  where.  I've  seen  *  Tartuffe  '  represented 
in  a  barn,  and  the  *  Battle  of  Pultowa '  in  an  alcove ; 
the  Russians  hiding  behind  a  bedside  table,  and 
the  Swedish  carrying  a  wash  basin  at  the  point  of 
the  bayonet.  So  there  is  nothing  surprising  in 
their  playing  opera  comique  at  Quimper.  There 
is  only  one  thing  that  hinders  me ;  the  agent  has 
informed  me  that  the  management  does  not  furnish 
the  costumes  ;  and,  as  I  don't  care  to  play  Joconde 
in  a  sack-coat  or  a  frock-coat,  I  must  buy  a  cos- 
tume, and  I  want  it  to  be  dazzling,  glistening. 
That  is  what  I  need  money  for,  and  what  I  must 
find  Miflores  for." 

"  Why,  I  thought  you  were  heir  to  some  old 
aunt? " 

"  Yes,  I  have  an  inheritance  in  perspective  —  it 
is  the  last.  But  the  old  aunt  does  not  show  her- 
self at  all  obliging  —  she  doesn't  die.  That's  why 
Miflores  is  necessary  to  me." 

"  But  by  what  charm  do  you  manage  to  get  that 
man  to  lend  you  money  so  often  ? " 

"  Ah,  that  is  my  secret." 

"  Oh,  Dodichet,  you'll  tell  us  your  secret,  won't 
you  ?     You'll  confide  it  to  us  ?  " 

"  Mesdemoiselles  —  I'll  tell  it  to  you  when  I 
have  no  further  need  of  borrowing  from  Miflores, 
when  I  have  inherited  my  aunt's  property." 


i6o  ADHEMAR 

"  Dear  little  Dodichet,  tell  us  your  secret !  We 
will  be  very  discreet." 

"  Mesdemoiselles,  I  don't  doubt  your  discre- 
tion. That's  why  I  won't  tell  you  anything  more 
about  it." 

Dodichet  swallowed  three  glasses  of  grog,  smoked 
five  cigarettes,  then  went  home,  humming, — 

But  one  always  comes  back 
To  his  first  love. 

The  next  day,  early  in  the  morning,  Dodichet 
went  to  the  hotel  where  lodged  the  mysterious 
apothecary.  He  found  him  packing  his  trunks 
and  preparing  to  move. 

"  What    does    this    mean  ? "    cried    Dodichet. 
"  Why  these  preparations  for  departure  ?  " 
"  Because  I  am  leaving  this  hotel." 
"  And  why  are  you  leaving  this  hotel  ^  " 
"  Because  I'm  afraid  they'll  find  me  here.  Your 
friend,  that  big  fair  fellow,  called  me  Seringat  yes- 
terday, before  everybody.     That  was  a  very  ugly 
trick  you  played  me  there,  to  take  me  to  a  house 
frequented  by  a  person  who  knew  me  in  Pontoise. 
It  was  not  on  that  account — that  you  should  play 
me  such  turns  as  those  —  that  I  was  willing  to  lend 
you  money." 

"  My  dear  fellow,  permit  me  to  say  that  you  are 
arguing  like  a  goose.  I  shall  prove  to  you  in  very 
few  words  that  you  have  no  common  sense.  I  have 
borrowed  money  of  you,  but  I  shall  return  it  to 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      i6i 

you  as  soon  as  I  have  inherited  my  aunt's  prop- 
erty, you  may  be  sure  of  that." 

"  Very  well  —  that  is  of  no  consequence,  I  am 
in  no  hurry." 

"  But  if  I  have  had  recourse  to  your  purse  for 
some  time  past,  it  was  because  I  was  straitened, 
because  I  had  need  of  you.  You  lent  it  to  me  — 
it  was  not  to  oblige  me,  I  know  that  perfectly  well, 
but  because  you  were  afraid  that  I  should  divulge 
what  you  were  so  anxious  to  conceal." 

"  Yes,  monsieur,  it  was  for  that  alone  and  not 
for  friendship." 

"  Thank  you,  I  am  sensible  of  that  mark  of 
affection.  But  if  I  were  to  bring  you  in  contact 
with  some  one  whom  you  had  known  at  Pontoise, 
some  one  in  fact  who  might  reveal  —  that  which 
concerns  you  all  would  be  at  an  end ;  you  would 
lend  me  no  more  money,  since  all  would  be  known. 
So  you  see  very  well,  that  it  would  be  to  my  in- 
terest that  people  should  not  know  you.  This 
Dubotte  came  to  Mirotaine's  by  a  miracle ;  he 
never  went  there  before  because  they  offer  liquorice 
water  for  refreshment — he  himself  said  so  before 
me.  It  was,  therefore,  by  an  unlucky  chance  that 
he  came  this  evening.  Furthermore,  I  was  ignor- 
ant of  the  fact  that  Dubotte  had  seen  you  at  Pon- 
toise ;  but,  luckily,  it  was  before  —  your  event ;  he 
does  not  know  of  it  —  " 

"  Oh,  if  he  had  mentioned  it,  I  should  have  done 
something  desperate." 

Vol.  XXIV 


i62  adh£mar 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  would  have  done !  but 
you  must  acknowledge  that  I  could  not  have  fore- 
seen this  meeting.  Look  you,  my  dear  Seringat, 
you're  not  angry  with  me,  are  you  ? " 

"Don't  call  me  Seringat — I  don't  wish  to  be 
called  so  again." 

"That  is  correct,  you  are  Miflores.  That  is  un- 
derstood— my  dear  fellow,  I  shall  again  be  obliged 
to  dip  into  your  purse.  I  am  going  to  make  my 
first  appearance  on  the  stage  at  Quimper-Corentin, 
and  in  Joconde  —  nothing  less  than  that!  But 
I  need  a  costume  for  the  part,  a  rich  and  elegant 
costume ;  you  know,  Joconde  is  the  friend  of 
Count  Robert." 

"  No,  I  don't  know  that  play." 

"  I  am  going  to  answer  you  like  M.  Prudhomme 
in  the  *  Famille  improvisee ' ;  you  are  wrong  not 
to  know  it,  if  you  had  the  opportunity  of  doing 
so.     How  much  do  I  owe  you  now  ?  " 

"  Two  thousand  francs,  that  I  have  lent  you  in 
four  parts." 

"  That's  correct — five  hundred  francs  each  time; 
oh,  well,  today  lend  me  a  thousand  francs  at  one  go. 
I  shall  then  owe  you  three  thousand  francs ;  but 
my  old  aunt  can't  last  much  longer  ;  besides,  I  am 
going  to  have  a  great  success  on  the  stage,  and  ten- 
ors are  now  paid  an  outrageous  price.  I  can  easily 
repay  a  thousand  crowns  when  I  shall  earn  fifty 
thousand  francs  a  year." 

M.  Seringat  took  from  the  pocket  of  his  note- 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       163 

book  a  bill  for  a  thousand  francs,  which  he  gave 
to  Dodichet  saying, — 

"  That's  for  your  secrecy." 

**  Thank  you,  my  dear  fellow ;  you  have  ugly 
moments,  but  very  pretty  quarters  of  an  hour. 
Will  you  come  and  witness  my  debut  at  Quimper ! " 

"No,  I  don't  wish  to  leave  Paris ;  one  is  much 
safer  lost  in  a  crowd.  Besides,  I  have  discovered 
a  little  hotel  at  the  back  of  a  court,  at  the  back  of 
the  Rue  Jacques,  and  I'm  going  to  take  refuge 
there." 

"  Very  good  !  but  as  I  must  be  able  to  find  you, 
if  it's  only  to  return  what  I  owe  you,  I'll  go  with 
you  as  far  as  the  little  hotel  at  the  back  of  a  court 
— which  must  be  very  difficult  to  get  at,  for  ordi- 
narily the  courts  are  behind  the  hotel.  Then  I  shall 
say  good-by  to  you,  and  be  off  to  Brittany  to  gather 
laurels  and  yellow  boys." 

A  cab  was  in  waiting  in  front  of  the  mysterious 
gentleman's  lodging  ;  they  loaded  it  with  baggage. 
Dodichet  took  his  place  inside  with  Seringat,  and 
did  not  leave  the  latter  until  he  had  seen  him  in- 
stalled in  an  old  house  in  the  Rue  Saint-Jacques, 
which  looked  as  much  like  a  hotel  as  Suresnes  wine 
is  like  chambertin. 

Dodichet's  first  care  was  to  buy  some  tobacco, 
pipes,  cigars,  and  papers  for  cigarettes.  His  pro- 
visions laid  in,  he  busied  himself  with  the  costume 
in  which  he  was  to  appear  as  Joconde.  He  spent 
three  hundred  francs,  but  had  a  dazzling  costume 


i64  ADH^MAR 

which  was  almost  new.  When  he  got  home  he  tried 
it  on  and  thought  so  well  of  it  he  sent  his  porter  to 
find  Boulotte_,  that  she  might  see  him  as  Joconde. 

Mademoiselle  Boulotte  came  and  uttered  a  cry 
of  admiration  when  she  saw  Dodichet,  who  had  on 
tight  breeches  of  white  silk  slashed  with  violet  vel- 
vet, a  velvet  tunic  of  the  same  color,  a  lace  ruff, 
a  velvet  cap  in  which  was  stuck  a  handsome  white 
feather,  a  gilt  belt,  and  yellow  funnel-shaped  boots. 
She  insisted  that  Dodichet  should  go  down  with  her 
as  he  was,  to  get  a  chop;  but  the  latter  dared  not 
risk  himself  in  a  cafe  in  such  a  costume,  since  it  was 
not  carnival  time.  All  that  he  could  do  was  to 
send  and  order  a  dinner  at  the  neighboring  restau- 
rant, and  to  dine  with  his  little  acquaintance  in 
Joconde's  costume. 

Mademoiselle  Boulotte  was  delighted,  she  imag- 
ined that  she  was  dining  with  a  noble  stranger. 
They  laughed,  they  ate,  they  drank  heartily.  Do- 
dichet sang  between  each  dish  a  scrap  from  his 
part;  his  voice  was  of  good  compass,  but  had  be- 
come husky  from  the  abuse  of  tobacco. 

"  My  good  fellow,"  said  Boulotte,  "  you  must 
not  smoke  on  the  day  of  your  debut,  nor  even  on 
the  night  before." 

"  All  right !  all  right !  I  am  a  little  hoarse  this 
evening,  but  if  I  swallow  the  yolk  of  an  egg  raw, 
my  voice  will  become  clear  as  if  by  magic.  Mean- 
while, let  us  drink  and  smoke.  I  am  not  going 
to  appear  tomorrow." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      165 

They  smoked  and  drank  so  much  that  Joconde 
ended  by  rolling  under  the  table  in  his  fine  costume, 
which  the  next  day  he  found  to  be  stained,  dusty 
and  torn.  Dodichet  was  obliged  to  buy  another 
pair  of  silk  breeches,  and  hastened  to  the  railway 
without  again  putting  on  his  stage  costume. 

Arrived  at  Quimper-Corentin,  Dodichet  imme- 
diately sought  the  manager  of  the  play.  As  he 
had  much  assurance  and  audacity,  he  presented 
himself  as  if  he  was  one  of  the  first  actors  of  the  day ; 
and  the  manager,  deceived  by  his  manner,  took  him 
for  a  man  accustomed  to  success.  To  ensure  the  man- 
ager's good  will,  and  that  of  his  future  comrades, 
Dodichet  invited  them  all  to  dinner  at  the  best 
hotel  in  the  place.  At  table  he  begged  them  not 
to  spare  either  bordeaux  or  champagne.  The  actors 
of  this  neighborhood  were  quite  unused  to  being 
treated  in  this  way,  and  the  manager  himself,  quite 
astonished  at  having  a  tenor  who  was  rolling  in  gold 
was  persuaded  that  he  had  obtained  an  EUevion  or 
a  Tamberlick. 

That  same  evening  they  announced  at  the  the- 
atre the  approaching  appearance  of  a  young  tenor 
who  had  already  obtained  the  greatest  success  on 
the  first  stages  of  Russia,  Germany  and  Italy  — 
for  prudence'  sake  Dodichet  did  not  mention  France. 
As  his  name  was  inharmonious  to  the  ear,  and 
seemed  rather  fitted  for  a  comedian  than  a  virtu- 
oso, Dodichethad  himselfannounced  as  SignorRou- 
kdini,  which  seemed  to  promise  an  Italian  singer. 


i66  ADHEMAR 

"How  many  rehearsals  do  you  want?"  de- 
manded the  stage  manager  of  his  new  artist ;  and 
the  latter  answered  with  that  self-possession  that 
never  abandoned  him, — 

"  A  single  one  will  suffice.  I  know  the  play  by 
heart,  and  at  a  push  I  could  play  all  the  parts." 

However,  at  the  rehearsal  Signor  Rouladini,  who 
said  he  knew  the  whole  play  by  heart,  did  not  even 
know  his  part,  and  turned  every  moment  to  the 
prompter. 

"  I  have  forgotten  a  little  of  it  because  I  know 
too  much,"  said  Dodichet.  "  But  tomorrow,  before 
the  public,  I  shall  not  miss  a  word." 

"  You  are  still  quite  hoarse,"  said  the  manager ; 
"  do  you  want  me  to  retard  your  appearance  a 
little?" 

"  No,  indeed,  no  ;  for  I  shall  have  the  same  voice 
later  on,  but  on  the  day  of  my  debut  I'll  swallow 
the  yolks  of  several  raw  eggs  and  my  voice  will 
be  clear  and  clean.  You  need  be  uneasy  about 
nothing." 

The  manager  did  not  seem  quite  reassured  ;  but 
all  the  actors  to  whom  Dodichet  had  given  the  din- 
ner declared  that  he  must  have  a  very  pretty  voice 
when  he  was  not  hoarse.  The  young  prima  donna 
advised  him  not  to  smoke  until  after  his  debut, 
but  Dodichet  laughed  in  her  face,  and  wagered  that 
he  would  smoke  on  the  stage  while  she  was  sing- 
ing ;  but  the  manager  formally  objected  to  the  new 
singer  making  any  such  attempt,  and  he  warned 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       167 

Rouladini  that  the  public  of  the  neighborhood 
would  not  put  up  with  much  nonsense. 

"  It's  because  you  don't  know  how  to  take  them," 
answered  the  latter,  "  but  with  me  I  defy  them  to 
show  me  any  bad  temper." 

The  day  of  the  appearance  arrived.  I  n  the  morn- 
ing they  rehearsed  again,  and  again  Dodichet  did 
not  know  his  part,  appealing  incessantly  to  the 
prompter,  a  very  stubborn  old  dancer,  who  de- 
clared that  the  new  tenor  was  deaf.  His  voice  was 
a  little  more  mellow,  thanks  to  the  yolks  of  eggs  ; 
but  on  leaving  rehearsal  and  to  give  himself  cour- 
age, Dodichet  drank  punch  and  treated  all  his  com- 
rades except  the  prompter,  with  whom  he  was  not 
pleased,  and  here  he  made  a  great  mistake  ;  an  actor 
should  be  on  as  good  terms  with  his  prompter  as  a 
tenant  with  his  porter. 

In  dining,  Dodichet  thought  it  necessary  to  take 
a  little  more,  to  give  him  courage  before  the  pub- 
lic. Then  he  smoked,  coughed,  cleared  his  throat, 
tried  his  voice ;  the  punch  had  completely  de- 
stroyed the  effect  of  the  eggs  ;  his  voice  was  gone. 
Dodichet  sent  out  for  some  more  eggs,  he  swal- 
lowed several  raw  while  he  was  dressing,  and  went 
on  to  the  stage  feeling  horribly  sick  at  his  stomach. 

The  sight  of  the  audience  chamber  filled  with 
people  quite  daunted  the  debutant,  he  did  not 
know  where  he  was,  nor  what  he  was  doing,  and 
seeing  in  one  of  the  orchestra  seats  a  gentleman 
with  whom   he  had  played  dominos  the  evening 


i68  ADHEMAR 

before,  he  took  off  his  cap  and  bowed  to  him. 
Fortunately  the  pubHc  took  the  salutation  to  it- 
self. The  actor  who  was  on  the  stage  with  Dodi- 
chet  made  him  a  sign  that  it  was  his  turn  to  speak  ; 
but  the  novice  had  forgotten  what  he  was  to  say, 
he  turned  towards  the  prompter  muttering  in  a  low 
voice, — 

"  The  word  !  the  word  !  " 

And  the  prompter  with  great  coolness  answered 
him, — 

"  I  gave  it  you." 

The  audience  began  to  murmur.  The  actor  who 
was  playing  Count  Robert  again  came  to  the  help  of 
his  comrade  ;  he  omitted  a  part  of  the  scene,  and 
came  to  the  cue  of  the  music  for  Joconde's  fa- 
mous song,  "  Long  Have  I  Wandered  Through 
the  World."  Then  a  deep  silence  fell  on  the  au- 
dience, for  they  were  extremely  curious  to  hear  the 
voice  of  this  gentleman  who  acted  so  badly,  and 
some  of  them  said,  "That's  exactly  like  an  Italian 
singer ;  for  them,  the  dialogue  is  nothing  and  the 
song  is  everything." 

But  this  time  the  song  was  found  to  be  still 
worse  than  the  spoken  dialogue.  The  eggs,  the 
punch,  the  wine  and  the  tobacco  had  given  the 
debutant  such  a  singular  voice  that  when  he  tried 
to  sing  they  heard  an  inhuman  sound  which  re- 
called at  one  and  the  same  time  all  the  harsh  and 
unmusical  noises  that  can  be  thought  of. 

At  first  the  house  re-echoed  with  loud  shouts  of 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       169 

laughter.  But  Dodichet  coughed,  turned  away, 
cleared  his  throat  and  tried  to  smile  at  the  public 
saying, — 

"  It  is  nothing  !  it  is  a  cat!  "  Then  he  began 
again,— 

Long  have  I  wandered  through  the  world. 

"  Well,  go  back  and  stay  there,"  cried  a  gentle- 
man in  the  pit. 

Dodichet  began  to  cough  again,  then  he  spat  on 
the  prompter,  who  had  put  out  his  head  and 
shouted  at  him, — 

"  Attend  to  your  business,  confound  it !  " 

The  debutant  began  his  song  again, — 

Long  have  I  wandered  through  the  world. 
And  they  have  seen  me  —  they  have  seen  me ! 

Hisses  came  from  all  parts  of  the  house  ;  this 
time  the  public  thought  he  was  making  game  of 
them.     They  shouted  from  everywhere, — 

"  Down  with  the  debutant !  Turn  him  out !  " 

Dodichet  tried  to  go  on, — 

And  they  have  seen  me  —  and  they  have  seen  me  — 

"They've  seen  enough  of  you,"  cried  the  pit 
with  one  voice.    "Get  out  of  here  !  " 

Dodichet  pretended  not  to  hear,  and  insisted  on 
continuing  his  song,  but  the  public  made  a  fright- 
ful uproar,  and  some  young  men  in  the  pit  sent  a 
shower  of  raw  apples  and  coppers  at  the  unlucky 
performer. 


lyo  ADHEMAR 

"  Oh,  so  that's  how  you  receive  me,  is  it  ?  "  said 
Dodichet ;  "  oh,  well,  you  are  all  calves'  heads  ! " 
and  turning  his  back  on  the  public  he  made  a  very 
vulgar  gesture  and  escaped  into  the  wings.  But 
the  gesture  he  had  permitted  himself  and  the  words 
he  had  uttered  had  completely  aroused  the  ire  of 
the  audience  ;  they  jumped  into  the  midst  of  the 
musicians ;  they  clambered  on  to  the  stage,  and 
ran  towards  the  scenery,  saying, — 

"  We  will  teach  him  to  fail  in  respect  to  the 
public,  this  gentleman ;  it  is  not  hisses,  but  a  good 
drubbing  with  a  cane  that  Signor  Rouladini  needs." 

And  the  prompter  rubbed  his  hands  in  his  den. 

The  manager  tried  in  vain  to  calm  the  public, 
they  would  not  listen  to  him.  But  Dodichet's 
comrades,  seeing  that  the  affair  was  becoming  seri- 
ous, hastened  to  make  him  leave  the  theatre  by 
a  secret  entrance ;  they  threw  on  his  shoulders  a 
gendarme's  cloak,  they  put  on  his  head  a  fireman's 
helmet  and  they  said  to  him, — 

"  You  must  leave  the  town  at  once.  Don't  go 
back  to  your  hotel,  you  will  not  be  safe  there.  Go 
to  the  railway  station  and  get  away  —  the  Bretons 
will  not  take  a  joke,  and  you  played  your  part 
very  badly." 

Quite  out  of  his  wits  at  what  had  happened  to 
him,  Dodichet  found  himself  in  the  street  without 
quite  knowing  how.  Fortunately  for  him  he  always 
wore  his  purse  in  his  belt,  in  order  that  he  might 
constantly  have  the   means  of  purchasing  liquid 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       171 

refreshments ;  he,  therefore,  quickly  made  up  his 
mind.  Wrapping  himself  in  the  mantle  they  had 
thrown  around  him,  and  putting  the  fireman's  hel- 
met firmly  on  his  head,  he  directed  his  steps 
towards  the  station,  saying  to  himself,  "  These 
provincials  are  not  capable  of  appreciating  me,  I'll 
go  back  to  Paris,  I've  still  two  hundred  francs  in 
my  pocket  and  with  that  I  can  await  events." 

Dodichet  threw  himself  into  a  third-class  car- 
riage, where  there  were  already  three  women.  His 
singular  costume  frightened  them,  they  wanted  to 
change  their  places,  but  Dodichet  reassured  them 
by  telling  them  he  was  coming  from  a  masquerade 
ball  and  that  it  was  to  win  a  bet  that  he  had  kept 
his  disguise.  However,atthefirst  station  he  bought 
other  clothes,  not  daring  to  return  to  Paris  attired 
as  Joconde,  with  a  gendarme's  cloak  and  a  fire- 
man's hat  in  addition  to  the  original  costume. 

These  changes  of  attire  cost  money,  and  on  arriv- 
ing in  Paris  Dodichet  had  barely  a  hundred  francs  of 
the  thousand  that  M.  Seringat  had  lent  him.  But 
on  the  very  day  of  his  arrival  he  received  a  letter  from 
Troyes,  and  that  letter  was  bordered  with  black. 

"  My  poor  aunt  is  dead  ! "  he  said  to  himself. 
"  But  faith !  I  shan't  be  such  a  hypocrite  as  to 
weep  for  her.  My  inheritance  just  comes  in  time. 
I  shall  pay  Seringat,  I  shall  buy  a  shawl  for  Bou- 
lotte  and  I  shall  pass  golden  days  of  champagne 
and  truffles;  for  the  good  aunt  was  rich.  She  can't 
have  left  me  less  than  a  hundred  thousand  francs." 


172  ADHEMAR 

Dodichet  opened  the  letter,  which,  in  fact,  an- 
nounced his  aunt's  death,  and  that  she  had  left  her 
fortune  to  a  distant  cousin,  since  she  was  unwilling 
that  it  should  revert  to  her  scapegrace  of  a  nephew, 
who  had  already  made  such  a  bad  use  of  that  which 
his  other  relations  had  left  him. 

Dodichet  had  not  expected  to  be  disinherited ; 
he  angrily  crushed  in  his  hands  the  lawyer's  letter 
which  brought  him  this  news  and,  for  the  first  time, 
his  reflections  were  not  rose-colored. 


CHAPTER  XI 

An  Ugly  Brother-in-Law 

Since  he  had  broken  with  Nathalie,  vainly  had 
Adhemar  sought  amusement  and  distraction ;  he 
could  find  them  nowhere.  When  he  loves  truly, 
it  is  with  great  difficulty  that  a  lover  refrains  from 
seeking  her  whose  presence  is  so  delightful  to  him ; 
he  tries  in  vain  to  be  brave,  and  says  to  himself 
that  a  lost  love  can  be  replaced  by  another;  but  he 
cannot  tear  away  so  easily  from  the  depths  of  his 
heart  the  beloved  image ;  he  feels  a  void,  experi- 
ences a  loneliness,  which  follows  him  from  place 
to  place,  and  he  prefers  the  memory  of  the  re- 
gretted past  to  all  the  pleasures  that  are  offered  to 
him  in  the  present. 

Adhemar  was  unhappy,  and  he  was  also  dis- 
pleased with  himself;  however,  he  tried  to  prove 
that  he  had  been  right  to  break  the  connection 
which  had  had  so  much  charm  for  him.  He  said 
to  himself, — 

"  1  loved  her,  I  loved  her  sincerely  ;  but  she 
did  not  love  me,  since  she  has  deceived  me.  That 
pipe  case  did  not  belong  to  a  woman,  so  she  must 
have  admitted  male  visitors  without  telling  me. 
And  the  moment  one's  mistress  has  this  sort  of 

*73 


174  ADHfiMAR 

secret,  one  knows  what  it  means  very  well  indeed. 
And  I  had  detected  the  smell  of  tobacco  on  a  pre- 
vious occasion,  so  the  smoker  goes  to  see  her  often. 
Ah,  Nathalie !  you  were  the  woman  of  my  dreams  1 
I  should  have  been  so  happy  had  you  loved  me. 
But  no,  women  cannot  be  faithful;  and  why  should 
she  be  different  to  others  ?  " 

On  a  certain  day,  as  the  man  of  letters  was  walk- 
ing sadly  along  and  meditating  thus,  whom  should 
he  meet  face  to  face  but  Lucien,  who  was  also  in 
the  dismals. 

"Why,  Lucien!" 

"  Adhemar ! " 

"  And  where  are  you  off  to,  looking  so  melan- 
choly, my  dear  Lucien?" 

"  I  was  going — faith,  I  don't  know  where  I  was 
going.  I  was  walking  at  hazard,  I  am  so  unhappy 
—  so  out  of  sorts." 

"  Are  you  indeed !  Come,  tell  me  your  troubles, 
my  poor  Lucien.  I  am  not  very  cheerful  myself, 
either.  Well,  let  us  share  our  griefs,  we  shall  per- 
haps find  a  little  consolation  in  so  doing.  Is  it 
about  your  inventions?  isn't  your  little  business 
successful? " 

"  Pardon  me,  that  is  going  very  well  indeed,  on 
the  contrary,  and  that  is  exactly  the  reason  why 
you  see  me  so  distressed." 

"  I  don't  understand  you." 

"  My  little  business  was  going  well,  and  I  had 
every  reason  to  hope  that,  at  last,  they  would  give 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       175 

me  Juliette's  hand ;  well,  instead  of  that,  M.  Miro- 
taine  showed  me  to  his  door  and  forbade  me  ever 
to  return  —  and  all  that  because  Dodichet  got  the 
unlucky  idea  of  trying  to  help  my  love  affairs  by 
presenting  to  the  Mirotaines  a  pretended  Italian 
count,  a  millionnaire,  who  was  going  to  demand 
Juliette's  hand.  They  invited  him  to  dinner,  and 
went  to  great  expense  to  entertain  him.  Then  ar- 
rived Dubotte,  who  discovered  the  fraud.  M.  Miro- 
taine  saw  that  he  was  being  hoaxed,  and  he  is 
persuaded  that  I  was  acting  in  conjunction  with 
Dodichet,  hence  his  anger  against  me  and  the 
order  he  gave  me  to  stay  away  from  his  house." 

"  That  devil  of  a  Dodichet !  I  remember,  how- 
ever, that  you  strictly  forbade  him  to  play  the 
slightest  joke  on  M.  Mirotaine." 

"He  thought  he  was  doing  me  a  service,  so  I 
can't  bear  him  any  grudge.  For  all  that  he  was 
the  cause  of  my  being  put  out." 

"  The  old  miser's  anger  will  wear  itself  out — if 
you  are  successful  in  your  undertakings.  His 
daughter  will  make  him  listen  to  reason." 

"  But,  in  the  mean  time,  I  can't  see  her,  nor  come 
to  an  understanding  with  her.  When  I  was  allowed 
to  go  there  we  found  a  way  to  exchange  a  few  words 
on  the  sly,  but  now  that  I  can't  see  Juliette  how 
can  I  put  her  in  possession  of  facts  concerning  my- 
self. But  to  be  quite  unable  to  see,  even  for  a 
single  moment,  the  woman  one  loves,  why,  Adhe- 
mar,  it  is  nothing  short  of  torture." 


176  ADHEMAR 

"  It  is,  as  you  say." 

"  Can't  you  see  her  you  love,  either  ?  " 

"  You  mean  she  whom  I  loved,  but  who  did  not 
love  me  —  she  has  deceived  me,  which  comes  to 
the  same  thing.  Then  I  ceased  to  visit  her,  but  I 
feel  that  I  love  her  still." 

"Are  you  quite  sure  she  deceived  you?" 

"  Sure !  as  much  so  as  a  man  can  be  who  sees 
that  a  woman  is  keeping  secrets  from  him.  Come, 
Lucien,  if  you  were  to  learn  that  your  Juliette  re- 
ceived visitors  of  whom  she  breathed  not  a  word 
to  you,  would  you  not  think  that  she  had  other 
love  affairs  ?  That  is,  supposing  she  was  mistress 
of  her  own  actions  .?  " 

"If  Juliette  were  her  own  mistress,  if  she  lived 
in  the  most  modest  little  room,  if  any  one  should 
say  to  me,  '  She  receives  other  men  beside  you,' 
I  would  not  suspect  her  for  an  instant." 

"  By  Jove !  what  a  trustful  fellow  you  are.  And 
if  you  had  a  proof  that  she  received  men  secretly?" 

"  Well,  then,  I  should  say  to  myself,  *  No  doubt 
she  has  some  reason  for  hiding  these  visits  from 
me  —  but  she  has  not  the  slightest  reason  for  tell- 
ing me,  swearing  to  me,  that  she  loves  me,  if  she 
doesn't.  When  I  go  to  see  her,  does  she  not  al- 
ways receive  me  with  the  sweetest  smile  ?  Can  I 
not  read  in  her  eyes  all  the  pleasure  that  my  pres- 
ence causes  her?  Only  if  she  should  cease  to  be 
the  same  to  me,  should  I  fear  she  no  longer  loved 
me." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE   KOCK       177 

"  That's  all  very  well ;  you  have  a  happy  dis- 
position, you  are  not  jealous." 

"  Oh,  not  at  all !  " 

"  Tell  me,  do  you  know  Madame  Dermont  ? 
She  is,  I  think,  a  friend  of  Mademoiselle  Juliette." 

"  Madame  Dermont  ?  Yes.  I  have  met  her 
several  times  at  Juliette's  when  M.  Mirotaine  still 
allowed  me  to  talk  with  his  daughter.  A  very 
agreeable  woman  indeed.  She  is  Juliette's  best 
friend.  They  tell  each  other  their  sorrows  and 
their  joys,  they  hide  nothing  from  each  other.  She 
is  well  aware  that  Juliette  loves  me,  and  if  she 
could  serve  us  in  our  love  affair  she  would  like 
nothing  better.  But  it  is  out  of  her  power  to  do 
so.     She  has  had  a  good  deal  of  trouble  also." 

"  She  —  Nathalie  ?  I  mean  to  say,  Madame 
Dermont  —  what  trouble  has  she?  She  never 
spoke  to  me  of  it." 

"  Do  you  know  her,  then,  this  lady  ? " 

"Yes  —  a  little.  I  go  to  her  house  sometimes 
—  but  these  troubles,  what  are  they  ?  Lucien,  my 
dear  fellow,  I  beg  of  you,  tell  me  all  you  know." 

"  Why,  I  know  it  through  Juliette,  to  whom,  as 
I  told  you  just  now,  this  lady  confides  all  her  trou- 
bles." 

"  But  what  are  these  troubles? —  for  God's  sake, 
come  to  the  point." 

Lucien  smiled  as  he  looked  at  Adhemar,  and 
answered, —  — — ' 

"  How  very  much  interested  you  are  in  every- 

Vol.  XXIV 


lyS  ADHfiMAR 

thing  that  concerns  this  young  lady  —  Is  it  because, 
by  any  chance  ?  —  " 

"Yes,  yes,  I  love  her,  I  adore  her,  I  am  mad 
about  her  —  but  these  troubles?  please,  my  dear 
fellow,  tell  me  all  that  you  know  —  " 

"  Madame  Dermont  is  a  widow,  as  you  know, 
but  her  husband  had  a  brother — a  very  bad  fellow, 
by  the  way  —  who  will  do  nothing  but  get  tipsy, 
gamble,  and  frequent  the  worst  places.  When 
M.  Dermont  died,  Alexandre,  that's  the  brother's 
name,  Alexandre  was  furious  to  see  that  he  inher- 
ited nothing,  that  everything  passed  into  the  young 
widow's  hands,  the  whole  fortune  —  modest  enough, 
for  the  matter  of  that  —  which  the  defunct  had  left. 
He  went  to  his  sister-in-law  and  made  a  scene,  even 
went  so  far  as  to  threaten  her ;  but  the  young 
woman  has  some  strength  of  mind,  some  character, 
and  she  showed  her  brother-in-law  the  door.  Alex- 
andre then  saw  that  he  had  gone  the  wrong  way 
about  it  and  that  he  could  obtain  nothing  from 
Madame  Dermont  with  threats ;  he  returned  to 
her  house,  not  threatening  this  time,  but  weeping 
and  groaning.  The  young  woman  did  not  drive  him 
away,  she  gave  him  five  hundred  francs  and  advised 
him  to  become  a  soldier;  the  only  career  in  which  he 
could  hope  to  succeed.  Alexandre  promised  to  fol- 
low her  advice ;  but  in  a  few  months  he  returned 
saying  that  he  was  dying  of  hunger,  that  he  had  had 
nothing  to  eat  since  the  day  before,  and  he  pois- 
oned the  atmosphere  with  brandy  and  tobacco ! " 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      179 

"  And  tobacco  !  he  smokes !  Ah,  I  understand 
now.  Poor  woman  ;  but  why  did  she  not  tell  me 
all  this  ? " 

"  Why  not  ?  Because  it  is  painful  to  say  that 
a  man  with  whom  one  is  connected,  who  bears  the 
same  name,  for  Alexandre  is  also  named  Dermont 
— Well,  she  doesn't  like  to  confess  that  a  worthless 
fellow,  a  scamp,  is  her  brother,  and  that  he  has  at 
least  the  right  to  call  her  sister." 

"  And  this  wretch  came  back  again  to  torment 
Nathalie?" 

"  Good  God  !  she  doesn't  know  how  to  get  rid 
of  him  !  and  it's  hard  to  be  always  giving  money 
when  it  only  serves  to  encourage  vice  and  debauch- 
ery." 

"Ah,  I'll  get  rid  of  him,  this  ugly  brother-in-law! 
Dear  Nathalie !  But  why  didn't  she  confide  in 
me.  No  matter,  I  am  a  wretch,  I  am  unworthy 
of  being  loved  by  so  good,  so  sweet  a  woman — if 
—  Lucien,  give  me  your  hand.  My  dear  fellow, 
if  you  did  but  know  what  a  good  turn  you  have 
done  me  —  you  have  restored  me  to  life  —  to  hap- 
piness, to  love,  to  her  in  fact !  Good-by,  Lucien, 
good-by.  I  shall  run,  I  shall  fly  to  ask  her  to  par- 
don me.     Oh,  she  will  forgive  me,  will  she  not?" 

And  without  awaiting  Lucien's  answer,  Adhe- 
mar  set  off  walking  precipitately  to  Madame  Der- 
mont's ;  but  when  he  approached  her  dwelling, 
when  he  saw  the  house  in  which  she  lived  he  slack- 
ened his  pace  ;  he  asked  himself  how  he  would  be 


i8o  ADHEMAR 

received  by  her  whom  he  had  left  in  so  rude  a 
fashion  after  having  unjustly  suspected  her.  When 
he  reached  the  door  he  stopped,  he  dared  not  enter 
and  racked  his  head  for  a  pretext,  a  motive  for 
presenting  himself. 

For  some  minutes  he  stood  irresolutely  before 
the  gateway,  when  he  was  suddenly  pushed  aside 
by  an  individual  who  went  into  the  house,  saying 
to  him  in  a  coarse  tone, — 

"Get  out  of  the  way  there  —  don't  you  see  that 
you're  stopping  up  the  gateway  ?  " 

The  person  who  addressed  these  words  to  him 
was  a  man  of  thirty,  very  negligently  dressed,  and 
whose  hat  seemed  to  have  received  several  dents. 
This  man,  whose  face  was  wrinkled  and  pimpled 
from  drink  before  its  time,  had  a  common,  insolent 
appearance,  smelled  strongly  of  tobacco,  and  seemed 
to  be  half  tipsy  already. 

"  Monsieur,  where  are  you  going  ?  "  cried  the 
porter,  to  the  individual  who  had  entered  the  ves- 
tibule and  was  going  towards  the  staircase,  while 
Adhemar,  who  had  been  on  the  point  of  taking  him 
to  task  for  the  rude  manner  in  which  he  had  pushed 
him,  stopped  to  hear  his  answer. 

"  Where  am  I  going  ?  Why,  hang  it  all,  you 
know  very  well ;  it  isn't  the  first  time.  I  am  going 
to  see  my  sister — Madame  Dermont." 

"  Madame  Dermont  is  out,  monsieur." 

"  You  always  tell  me  the  same  thing,  and  you 
know  very  well  I  shall  go  up,  just  the  same." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       i8i 

"  Monsieur,  I  am  expressly  forbidden  to  allow 
you  to  go  up — and  this  time  you  shan't  go  up." 

"  I  shan't  go  up  ?  Have  you  done,  you  old 
snoozer  ?  Look  you  here  !  Madame  Dermont 
doesn't  want  to  receive  me,  but  I  am  Alexandre 
Dermont,  her  husband's  brother,  and  she  has  no 
right  to  refuse  me  admission,  so  I  shall  go  up,  all 
the  same,  and  you  be  hanged,  porter !  And  my 
sister-in-law  will  be  obliged  to  receive  me,  because 

—  because  I  — " 

M.  Alexandre  did  not  finish  this  phrase  because 
some  one  in  front  of  him  barred  the  way  and  forced 
him  to  recede,  looking  fixedly  into  his  eyes.  Then 
he  muttered, — 

"  Come  now,  what's  it  got  to  do  with  you  — 
let  me  pass,  do  you  hear !  " 

"  I  will  show  you  what  it  has  to  do  with  me, 
M.  Alexandre  Dermont." 

"  I  don't  know  you  —  let  me  go  up  — " 

"  You  will  not  go  up ;  you  will  not  go  to  your 

—  sister-in-law,  who  is  perfectly  right  to  refuse 
to  admit  a  wretch,  a  scoundrel  of  your  kind." 

"  What  are  you  saying  ?  What  is  that  ?  what 
are  you  meddling  for  ?  " 

"  I  tell  you  that  you  are  a  low  rascal,  that  you 
shan't  go  to  Madame  Dermont's  to  get  money 
from  her,  which  you  spend  in  orgies  and  debauch- 
ery !  Aren't  you  ashamed  to  conduct  yourself  in 
such  a  way  ?  —  and  do  you  think  that  Madame 
Dermont's  modest  fortune  will  continually  serv? 


i82  ADHEMAR 

to  gratify  your  low  tastes  ?  No,  monsieur,  you 
need  expect  nothing  more.  I  forbid  you  —  do 
you  hear  me  ?  —  I  forbid  you  to  again  present 
yourself  at  your  sister-in-law's." 

"And  by  what  right,  if  you  please?  " 

"  By  the  right  that  all  good  men  are  born  to — 
the  right  to  defend  a  woman  who  is  oppressed,  who 
is  threatened,  who  is  robbed  — " 

"  Oh,  you're  a  nuisance  !     I'm  going  up." 

And  M.  Alexandre,  making  a  half  turn,  tried 
to  gain  the  staircase,  but  Adhemar  caught  him, 
seized  him  by  the  throat,  and  pressed  him  against 
the  wall,  saying, — 

"  If  you  again  attempt  to  go  up  those  stairs,  I'll 
break  your  head  against  this  wall." 

"  Monsieur,  you  are  strangling  me  !  " 

"  Do  you  understand  me  ?  " 

"Yes  —  but  let  me  go." 

"  Will  you  swear  to  come  no  more  to  Madame 
Dermont's  ? " 

"  Yes  —  I  swear  —  but  you  wrong  me.  I  left 
a  pipe  case  at  my  sister's  —  I  was  going  to  look 
for  it." 

"It  wasn't  for  such  a  miserable  trifle  as  that, 
that  you  came ;  it  was  to  ask  the  lady  for  money 
again,  thief  that  you  are." 

"  Monsieur,  you  insult  me  !  " 

"  Oh,  you  think  I  insult  you  ?  well,  if  you  have 
the  smallest  spark  of  courage,  come,  and  I  will 
give  you  satisfaction.     There's  an  armorer's  near 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       183 

here,  we'll  go  and  get  some  pistols,  and  take  a  cab. 
Come  along." 

"  Me  fight  —  not  if  I  know  it !  thank  you  !  let 
me  go,  I've  had  enough  of  it,  and  I  swear  never 
to  come  back." 

"  Go,  then  ;  but  if  you  fail  to  keep  this  vow,  I 
swear  to  you  I  won't  fail  you  1  " 

M.  Alexandre  listened  no  further,  but  hurried 
off  as  though  he  feared  pursuit.  Then  the  porter, 
who  had  armed  himself  with  his  broom  to  help 
Adhemar  if  it  had  been  necessary,  cried, — 

"  Oh,  monsieur,  how  lucky  that  you  were  here 
to  drive  away  that  wicked  scapegrace.  Me,  he 
would  not  listen  to  —  but  you  !  Oh,  you  shook 
him  so  soundly  that  I'll  answer  for  it  he  won't  show 
himself  here  again.  You  have  rendered  Madame 
Dermont  a  famous  service." 

"  And  —  has  the  lady  really  gone  out  ?  " 

"  No,  monsieur,  no,  she  has  been  out  scarcely 
at  all  this  long  time  past  —  but  that  was  my  orders 
for  that  ruffian  at  all  times.  Oh,  you  can  go  up — 
you  will  be  well  received,  you  will." 

Adhemar  mounted  the  staircase,  then  he  stopped 
in  front  of  Nathalie's  door ;  he  was  deeply  moved 
and  said,  "  She  hardly  ever  goes  out,  the  porter 
said.  Has  she  been  ill  ?  and  was  I  the  cause  of 
it  ?  Cursed  jealousy  !  How  will  she  receive  me  ? 
No  matter,  I  wish  to  see  her,  and  to  die  at  her  feet 
if  she  will  not  forgive  me." 

Tremblingly  he  rang  the  bell ;  the  maid  opened 


i84  ADHEMAR 

to  him,  and  uttered  an  exclamation  of  joy  when 
she  saw  him,  for  servants  can  always  guess  their 
mistress'  secret  thoughts,  and  the  latter  knew  very 
well  that  Adhemar's  return  would  bring  back  joy 
and  happiness  into  the  house,  which  had  been 
very  gloomy  and  dull  ever  since  he  had  ceased  to 
visit  it. 

"  Ask  Madame  Dermont  if  she  is  willing  to  re- 
ceive me,"  murmured  Adhemar. 

The  servant  ran  joyfully  to  her  mistress  and  re- 
turned almost  immediately  to  say  he  might  come 
in.  Adhemar  did  not  allow  her  to  repeat  her  words. 
He  found  Nathalie  with  her  embroidery  in  her 
hand,  but  she  was  not  working.  One  glance  suf- 
ficed to  show  him  that  she  was  pale,  changed  ;  that 
an  expression  of  sadness  was  imprinted  on  her 
features.  Adhemar  could  no  longer  contain  him- 
self, he  threw  himself  on  his  knees  at  her  feet,  he 
took  her  hands  and  pressed  them  in  his  own, 
exclaiming, — 

"  Pray  forgive  me ;  if  you  could  but  know  how 
I  have  reproached  myself!  But  I  swear  it  shall  not 
occur  again,  for  I  am  entirely  cured  now.  Oh,  I 
have  been  so  unhappy  and  miserable  while  away 
from  you." 

"  And  I,  monsieur,  do  you  suppose  I  did  not 
suffer  ?  why  did  you  not  come  back  sooner  ?  what 
prevented  you  ? " 

"  Why  it  was  because  —  I  don't  know  why  — 
Come,  Nathalie,  I  can't  lie  to  you — today  I  met 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      185 

Lucien,  and  I  learned  from  him  that  you  had  a 
brother-in-law  who  smoked." 

"  And  then  you  understood  that  I  had  no  other 
love  affair.  Hothead  !  if  you  had  not  gone  so 
quickly,  so  suddenly,  I  should  have  told  you  all  — 
disclosed  everything  —  but  when  jealousy  seizes 
hold  of  you  there  is  no  way  of  making  you  listen 
to  reason." 

"  Hereafter,  my  confidence  in  you  will  be  com- 
plete. You  love  me  and  you  forgive  me  again,  do 
you  not  ? " 

"  Yes,  but  this  is  the  last  time,  for  such  scenes 
try  me  too  much." 

At  this  moment  they  heard  the  servant  shriek- 
ing with  laughter  in  the  kitchen.  Nathalie  rang  the 
bell  and  inquired  of  her  as  to  the  cause  of  this  fit 
of  merriment. 

"  Oh,  madame,  hasn't  monsieur  told  you  what 
he  has  done  to  your  rascal  of  a  brother-in-law  ? 
The  porter  has  just  told  me.  Monsieur  drove  him 
out  of  the  house,  and  took  him  by  the  throat  and 
threatened  to  break  his  head  if  he  ever  dared  to 
come  near  you." 

"  Is  that  true,  Adhemar  ?  " 

"  Of  course  —  was  I  wrong  ?  " 

"  Oh,  quite  otherwise ;  you  have  rendered  me 
a  great  service.  It  seems  that  I  am  destined  to 
be  saved  from  all  kinds  of  dangers  by  you  !  You 
see,  monsieur,  you  were  quite  wrong  to  abandon 
me." 


i86  ADHEMAR 

As  his  only  answer  Adhemar  covered  her  hand 
with  kisses,  and  the  maid  went  back  to  her  kitchen, 
exclaiming, — 

"  Oh,  what  good  luck !  that  man  and  his  to- 
bacco will  never  come  here  again." 


CHAPTER  XII 

A  Box  IN  THE  Pit 

El^ ONORB,  after  the  evening  on  which  M.  Calle 
had  played  bezique  with  her  up  to  midnight,  said 
tenderly  to  her  husband, — 

"  Do  you  not  know,  monsieur,  that  it  is  ex- 
tremely wrong  of  you  to  leave  me  to  thus  pass 
the  evening  quite  alone  with  a  young  man  —  it 
shows  a  good  deal  of  indifference  to  your  wife  — 
and,  in  fact,  if  I  did  not  love  you  I  might  wish  to 
avenge  myself  for  your  frequent  absences.  You 
expose  me  to  having  false  declarations  of  love  made 
to  me." 

"  My  dearest,  you  don't  look  at  those  things  from 
the  right  pointof  view,"  answered  handsome  Phile- 
mon, caressing  his  mutton-chop  whiskers,  which 
threatened  to  overrun  his  cheeks.  "  Come  now, 
did  Calle  make  you  a  declaration  ? " 

"  Oh,  no  1  " 

"  You  see  it  is  all  right,  then.  Devil  take  it ! 
I  know  whom  I'm  leaving  you  with  ;  this  young 
man  is  as  chaste  as  Voltaire's  *  Candide.'  Do  you 
know  Voltaire's  *  Candide  ? ' " 

"  No,  my  dear." 

"  I  must  get  you  to  read  it,  for  you  know  too 


i88  ADH£MAR 

little  about  literature,  and  I  should  like  to  instruct 
you  in  everything.  I  don't  like  people  to  say  of 
my  wife,  '  She  is  a  simpleton.'  You  understand,  I 
don't  want  people  to  say  that,  and  you  must  con- 
duct yourself  accordingly." 

"  I'll  try,  my  dear." 

"  To  come  back  to  Calle ;  he's  one  of  those  who 
are  rather  simple;  he  dare  not  look  a  woman  in 
the  face,  and  scarcely  dares  to  speak  to  her.  So 
you  see,  I  can  leave  him  with  you  without  fear. 
If  ever  he  should  fall  in  love  with  any  lady  it  will 
be  because  she  has  made  the  first  advances." 

"  Do  you  think  so,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  of  it ;  he  would  never  dare  to  declare 
himself  if  he  wasn't  helped  a  little.  But  then,  my 
darling,  since  I  am  so  assured  of  your  virtue  and 
the  love  you  bear  me,  I  am  quite  easy  on  that 
score.  I  trust  you  to  Calle  as  to  the  guardian  of 
a  seraglio.  Do  you  know  what  the  guardian  of  a 
seraglio  in  Turkey  is  ?  " 

"  No,  my  dear." 

"  Well,  it  is  an  eunuch." 

"  And  what  is  an  eunuch  ?  " 

"  Why,  don't  you  know  ?  I  will  tell  you  one 
of  these  evenings  —  when  it  rains.  Really,  I  have 
a  good  many  things  to  teach  you." 

Some  days  later  Philemon  said  in  the  morning 
to  his  wife, — 

"  My  dear,  you  are  going  to  have  a  great  pleas- 
ure.    I  know  you  like  the  play,  and  above  all  the 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       189 

Theatre  du  Gymnase  ;  well,  I've  a  box  for  you 
for  this  evening." 

"  What  a  delightful  treat  —  the  Gymnase,  too. 
You've  a  box  !  now  that  was  nice  of  you.  What 
time  shall  we  start,  my  dear  ?  so  I  may  be  ready, 
and  not  keep  you  waiting." 

"  Oh,  the  play  doesn't  begin  till  half-past  seven, 
be  ready  at  a  quarter  past,  that  will  be  soon  enough ; 
no  one  would  call  for  you  before  that  time." 

"  What !  call  for  me !  Am  I  not  going  with  you  ? " 

"  No,  no,  I  shall  go  later  on  and  join  you,  be- 
cause I'm  obliged  to  go  this  evening  to  a  party  at 
my  chief's.  You  understand !  I  can't  fail  them. 
When  one  wants  to  get  on  one  must  try  to  stand 
well  with  those  who  are  above  him." 

"  But,  then,  if  you  knew  you  were  going  to  a 
party,  why  did  you  order  a  box  for  this  evening  ?  " 

"  Why  did  I  ^  Well,  if  I  amuse  myself  on  one 
side,  should  not  you  do  so  on  the  other  ? " 

"  But  you  always  used  to  take  me  with  you  to 
the  parties  at  your  chief's." 

"Oh,  yes,  on  evenings  when  there  was  dancing — 
or  music —  but  today  it  will  be  a  — a  serious  party; 
they  will  talk  politics,  they  will  be  interested  in 
conversing  about  the  future  obligations  of  a  new 
oriental  railway,  and,  as  you  can  imagine,  it  would 
bore  women  fearfully  to  have  to  listen  to  all  that. 
That  is  why  there  will  be  no  women  at  the  party." 

"  And  with  whom  do  you  intend  that  I  should 
go  to  the  play  ?  " 


I90  ADHEMAR 

"  Oh,  don't  be  uneasy  about  that,  I've  let  Calle 
know ;  I  saw  him  yesterday,  and  said  to  him, 
*  Will  you  come  tomorrow  evening  and  take  my 
wife  to  the  theatre  ? '  He  jumped  at  my  proposal 
with  delight;  he's  extremely  fond  of  the  theatre." 

"  But  you  will  abuse  this  young  man's  kind- 
ness." 

"  You  mean  that  I  shall  give  him  a  great  deal 
of  pleasure  ;  the  poor  fellow  has  never  known  what 
it  was  to  have  a  mistress  of  the  right  kind  !  He  is 
quite  proud  at  the  thought  of  escorting  you  ;  he 
says  to  himself,  *  People  will  think  I  have  made  a 
conquest  of  this  fair  lady.'  " 

"And  you  are  quite  willing  that  people  shall 
think  I  am  this  young  man's  mistress?  " 

"  Why  no,  no  one  will  believe  it !  I  tell  you  that 
it  is  he  who  will  imagine  they  think  so.  One  has 
to  be  careful  to  dot  all  one's  i's  to  make  you  un- 
derstand anything." 

** There  is  one  thing  that  I  understand  very  well, 
monsieur,  and  that  is  that  you  are  now  doing  your 
best  to  prevent  my  going  with  you.  And  although 
you  think  me  very  simple,  I  beg  you  to  believe 
that  I  perceive  your  object  perfectly." 

"Oh,  these  women,  these  women  —  they  take 
everything  the  wrong  way.  I've  done  the  best  I 
can  to  be  agreeable,  I've  got  you  a  box  for  the 
play  —  a  charming  play  too,  so  they  say ;  I  can't 
take  you  with  me  this  evening,  it's  a  political  party 
—  very  good!     I  don't  wish  that  you  should  sit 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      191 

moping  alone  beside  the  fire  —  and  instead  of 
thanking  me  for  what  I  have  done,  you  overwhelm 
me  with  reproaches  and  say  all  manner  of  absurd 
things.  Be  quite  easy,  when  I  order  a  box  for  you 
again  you  will  know  it." 

M.  Dubotte  went  out  in  a  very  bad  temper. 
Madame  Dubotte  said  nothing  more, but  she  prob- 
ably thought  a  great  deal.  In  the  evening  she 
made  a  very  careful  and  elaborate  toilet.  Young 
Calle  arrived  very  promptly  at  the  appointed  hour; 
he  was  attired,  curled,  and  scented  as  if  he  were 
going  to  a  wedding.  Philemon  gave  him  the  ticket, 
saying,— 

"  Here  is  your  box  —  I  shall  join  you  later  on, 
if  it  is  possible  to  tear  myself  away  from  my  chief's 
in  time  to  do  so.  See  that  my  wife  amuses  herself 
—  which  is  not  easy,  for  she  isn't  always  in  a  good 
temper.  If  you  render  her  amiable  you  will  work 
a  miracle." 

Young  Calle  bowed  and  left  the  house  with 
Eleonore,  who  was  getting  used  to  hanging  on  his 
arm.  The  young  man  wished  to  take  a  carriage, 
but  the  lady  refused,  because  the  Gymnase  theatre 
was  at  no  very  great  distance  from  her  house.  On 
the  way  Calle  began  several  speeches  as  to  the 
pleasure  he  experienced  in  finding  himself  with  so 
charming  a  lady  ;  but  as  he  could  not  manage  to 
finish  any  of  them,  Eleonore  came  to  his  aid  every 
time  by  saying,  "  You  are  very  kind,"  and  there 
the  sentence  remained. 


192  ADHEMAR 

When  they  reached  the  theatre,  Calle  looked  at 
the  box  and  said, — 

"  It  is  a  pit  box." 

"  A  pit  box  ?  I  don't  know  what  that  is  ;  is  it 
very  high  ? " 

"  On  the  contrary,  it  is  down  below,  around  the 
pit. 

When  they  opened  the  box,  Eleonore  hesitated 
at  going  in,  and  exclaimed, — 

"  Good  heavens !  how  dark  it  is  in  there !  What, 
is  that  our  box  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  madame,"  answered  the  box-keeper, 
"  and  you  will  see  very  well,  it  is  almost  fronting 
the  stage." 

"  Oh,  how  strange  it  is.  Yes,  that's  true,  we  can 
see  the  stage  very  well — but  we  can't  be  seen — 
it  is  hardly  worthwhile  to  have  made  a  toilet;  but 
I  shall  get  used  to  it,  perhaps.  M.  Calle,  do  you 
like  these  boxes  ? " 

"  Madame,  I  am  always  pleased  when  I  have  the 
privilege  —  " 

"  You  are  very  kind.'* 

Eleonore  placed  herself  in  the  front  of  the  box; 
Calle  seated  himself  modestly  behind  madame. 
When  the  young  woman  had  looked  into  the 
house  for  a  moment  —  she  was  able  to  see  but  a 
very  small  part  of  it  —  she  turned  towards  her 
squire,  who  looked  at  her,  smiled,  and  said  nothing. 

"  M.  Calle,  you  can  see  nothing  where  you  are; 
place  yourself  in  front,  beside  me." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       193 

"  Oh,  madame,  you  are  very  kind,  but  I  am  very 
well  here — in  front  I  should  be  in  the  way  of  your 
crinoline." 

"  Not  at  all." 

"  I  can  see  the  stage  very  well." 

"  But  you  can't  see  the  house  at  all." 

"  That  doesn't  matter  to  me  in  the  least  —  what 
I  can  see  is  much  more  agreeable  to  me  —  to  look 
at  —  and  when  I  am  near  you,  madame  —  then  I 
have  no  need  to  —  I  don't  need  to  look  elsewhere 
to  — to  — " 

"You  are  very  kind." 

The  play  began.  They  listened  to  the  piece,  in 
which  love-making  was  the  chief  point  of  interest. 
Eleonore  seemed  to  be  interested  in  this;  the 
young  man  sighed  continually.  After  the  act  he 
went  out  and  quickly  came  back  with  bonbons  and 
crystallized  fruits,  which  he  offered  to  Madame 
Dubotte.  The  latter  accepted  them  with  a  sweet 
smile.  It  was  again  a  case  of  saying  to  her  escort, 
"  You  are  very  kind."  But  she  contented  herself 
with  offering  him  a  quarter  of  orange,  crystallized, 
and  feasted  herself  on  the  candied  fruits.  Women 
are  generally  very  fond  of  bonbons ;  a  man  ought 
always  to  have  his  pockets  full  of  them  if  he  wishes 
to  please  the  ladies.  You  can  vary  this  form  of 
treat,  however,  by  offering  truffles  cooked  in  cham- 
pagne, then  your  triumph  will  be  still  more  com- 
plete. 

They  played  the  after-piece  ;  sometimes,  that  he 

Vol.  XXIV 


194  ADHEMAR 

might  see  better,  the  young  man  leaned  over  Eleo- 
nore.  Then,  with  his  head  he  brushed  the  shoul- 
ders of  the  pretty,  fair  woman ;  these  shoulders 
were  very  white,  and  her  bust  was  beautifully 
moulded.  So  young  Calle  had  not  been  so  very 
simple  in  placing  himself  behind  her,  and  Eleonore, 
turning  her  head  suddenly,  met  the  head  of  her 
escort,  who  was  not  at  that  moment  looking  at  the 
play,  and  the  two  faces  found  themselves  so  near 
each  other  that  the  tips  of  their  noses  almost  met. 
A  man  accustomed  to  success  with  the  ladies  would 
have  profited  by  the  occasion  to  kiss  the  young 
woman,  but  Calle  hastily  drew  back,  stammering 
excuses  that  were  quite  unnecessary,  for  Eleonore, 
in  meeting  this  face  plunged  in  contemplation  of 
her  charms,  had  been  on  the  point  of  saying  to 
him,  "  You  are  very  kind." 

The  second  piece  was  quite  as  full  of  love  as  the 
fiirst.  After  the  first  act,  Eleonore,  seeing  that  her 
companion  continued  to  sigh  without  daring  to 
speak,  remembered  that  her  husband  had  told  her 
that  this  young  man  needed  to  be  encouraged  and 
that  unless  he  was  he  would  not  dare  to  speak  to 
a  lady,  and  she  opened  the  conversation. 

"M.  Calle,  I  have  noticed  one  thing." 

"  What  is  that,  madame  ?  " 

"It  is  that  in  every  play  on  the  stage  there  is 
something  about  love." 

"  That  is  true  —  you  are  right ;  they  do  put  it 
in  everywhere." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       195 

"  And  why  is  that,  monsieur  ?  " 

"  Oh,  madame,  it  is  because  apparently  the  au- 
thors don't  know  how  to  talk  about  anything  else." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  I  have  understood  some 
people  to  say  that  the  theatre  copies  everything 
that  goes  on  in  real  life.  However,  in  the  world 
no  one  talks  incessantly  of  love,  do  they,  mon- 
sieur  r 

"  Oh,  no,  madame,  they  don't  speak  of  it,  al- 
though, often,  they  would  like  to ;  but  they  dare 
not. 

"  Oh,  it  is  because  they  dare  not  —  well,  they 
are  very  wrong.  It  seems  to  me  that  is  a  more 
interesting,  a  more  amusing  subject  than  anything 
else." 

Young  Calle  had  a  declaration  at  the  tip  of  his 
tongue.  But  the  second  act  commenced  and  he 
said  nothing  further  ;  while  they  were  playing,  Ele- 
onore  let  her  opera-glass  fall  into  the  box.  Calle 
immediately  precipitated  himself  to  the  floor  to 
pick  it  up.  But  in  order  to  do  that  he  had  to  pass 
in  front  of  her,  and  almost  get  on  his  knees,  for  it 
was  very  dark  in  the  box  and  he  had  to  search 
gropingly.  Instead  of  the  opera-glass  it  was  Ele- 
onore's  ankle  that  the  young  man  seized,  and  he 
pressed  it  tenderly. 

"  Why,  M.  Calle,  that  isn't  my  opera-glass, 
that's  my  ankle  you  have  hold  of,"  said  the  pretty 
blonde  laughing. 

"  Do  you  think  so,  madame  ?  " 


196  ADHEMAR 

"  I  am  very  sensible  of  the  fact.  Why,  M.  Calle, 
where  are  you  looking  now  —  my  opera-glass  isn't 
there  !  oh,  wait !    I  can  feel  it  with  my  foot." 

Calle  decided  very  regretfully  to  bring  his  head 
out  from  beneath  the  seat ;  he  held  the  opera-glass 
and  presented  it  to  the  young  lady  with  a  trem- 
bling hand  ;  the  latter  was  also  moved,  so  much  so 
that  in  taking  the  opera-glass  she  dropped  it  again. 
This  time  it  was  on  her  knees.  Calle  had  retaken 
his  place,  but  now,  as  she  turned  round  to  speak 
to  him,  Eleonore  partly  leaned  on  him,  it  may  have 
been  without  noticing  it ;  ladies  often  commit  lit- 
tle familiarities  like  that,  which  give  great  hopes 
to  those  who  are  the  recipients  of  them.  The 
young  man  was  as  red  as  a  cherry  and  his  eyes 
were  still  fixed  elsewhere  than  on  the  stage.  The 
act  finished,  and  Madame  Dubotte,  turning  towards 
her  squire,  asked  him  what  he  thought  of  the  play. 
He  stammered, — 

"  I  don't  know,  madame,  I  did  not  understand 
a  word  of  it." 

"  What  ?  you  were  not  listening,  then  ?  " 

"  I  was  listening,  but  I  did  not  understand,  I 
was  so  distracted  by — by  —  Have  you  dropped 
your  opera-glass  again,  madame  ?  " 

"  Why,  no,  here  it  is,  on  my  knees." 

"  Ah  —  that's  a  pity  !  " 

"  What,  would  you  like  it  to  be  on  the  floor 
again  ^  " 

"  Of  course,  because   I  should  then   have  the 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       197 

pleasure  of  looking  for  it  again,  and  then  —  and 
then  — " 

Following  his  custom,  the  young  man  did  not 
finish  his  sentence,  but  he  heaved  such  a  deep  sigh 
that  the  young  woman  said  to  him  kindly, — 
"  Are  you  in  pain,  M.  Calle  ?  " 
"  Oh,  no,  madame,  quite  the  contrary." 
"  What  are  you  sighing  so  deeply  for,  then  ?  " 
"  It  is  my  way  of  showing  that  I  am  happy," 
"  Ah  —  that's  strange.    You  are  happy,  then  ?  " 
"  Oh,  yes,  madame  —  I  always  am  —  when  I 
am  near  you." 

This  time  the  sentence  had  been  completed  ; 
Eleonore  thanked  the  young  man  with  a  sweet 
smile,  and  during  the  last  act  she  leaned  a  good 
deal  more  on  the  person  behind  her,  whose  knees 
served  her  as  an  armchair. 

The  play  came  to  an  end  and  they  returned  to 
the  house  slowly,  very  slowly  ;  they  did  not  seem 
at  all  in  a  hurry  to  get  there.  Eleonore  spoke  of  the 
play;  the  young  man  answered, "Yes,"and," No," 
at  random ;  but  he  squeezed  the  arm  that  was  within 
his  own  very  tenderly,  which  did  not  seem  to  vex 
the  person  who  received  that  mark  of  esteem. 

When  she  reached  her  dwelling,  Madame  Du- 
botte  invited  her  young  escort  to  come  and  see  her 
soon  and  have  a  game  of  bezique  while  her  hus- 
band was  out  without  her,  according  to  his  usual 
custom.  Calle  swore  that  he  would  profit  by  this 
permission. 


198  ADHEMAR 

In  fact,  during  the  following  week  M.  Calle 
came  neariy  every  evening  to  have  a  game  of  cards 
with  the  fair  Eleonore,  and  the  latter  showed  no 
more  ill-temper  when  her  husband  went  out  with- 
out her.     She  even  said  to  him  sometimes, — 

"  My  dear,  if  you  have  business,  don't  trouble 
about  me,  M.  Calle  will  come  and  keep  me  com- 
pany—  he  plays  bezique  very  well  indeed.  He 
never  can  get  enough  of  it,  he  is  indefatigable." 

Then  Dubotte  was  delighted ;  he  exclaimed, — 

"  At  last  I  have  formed  my  wife  !  She  is  just 
where  I  wanted  her  to  be.  She's  no  longer  inces- 
santly on  my  heels  —  she  leaves  me  entire  freedom. 
This  is  just  where  I  wanted  her  to  get  to.  I've 
had  a  good  deal  of  trouble  to  bring  it  about,  but 
I've  managed  to  do  so.  She  goes  to  the  play  now 
with  Calle  without  being  in  a  bad  temper,  even  if 
I  do  not  rejoin  her  later." 

The  young  woman  did  still  more ;  when  her 
husband  promised  to  order  a  box  for  the  play  for 
her,  she  said  to  him, — 

"  My  dear,  try  and  get  a  pit  box." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

Incorrigible 

Nathalie  received  daily  visits  from  Adhemar, 
who  spent  with  her  all  the  time  he  could  spare 
from  his  literary  pursuits  during  the  day,  and  he 
also  passed  almost  every  evening  with  her;  he 
often  communicated  his  plots  to  her,  his  ideas  for 
new  plays ;  he  would  read  a  scene  to  her,  a  chap- 
ter from  a  new  novel ;  he  consulted  her,  he  listened 
to  her  opinion.  If  Moliere  consulted  his  servant, 
was  it  not  even  more  natural  to  consult  his  mistress. 
There  is,  however,  one  difference  in  this  respect; 
the  servant,  Laforest,  was  proud  and  happy  to  be 
consulted  by  his  master ;  while  among  twenty  mis- 
tresses you  will  find  nineteen  who  would  refuse  to 
listen  to  you  if  you  talked  of  literature  to  them ; 
who  would  yawn  were  you  to  read  but  one  page 
that  you  had  written  ;  or  who  would  interrupt  you 
at  the  most  interesting  place  to  say  to  you,  "  My 
dear,  would  you  prefer  green  or  blue  for  a  gown. 
I  think  blue  becomes  me  best  —  what  do  you 
think  ?  " 

Then  you  see  that  your  efforts  to  read  what 
would  move  her  will  be  lost,  you  put  your  manu- 
script back  in  your  pocket,  and  you  resolve  never 

»99 


200  ADHEMAR 

to  talk  with  your  sweetheart  about  anything  but 
fashions  and  finery,  since  she  takes  interest  in  noth- 
ing but  those.  But,  of  course,  there  are  exceptions, 
there  are  women  who  are  wiUing  to  listen  when 
one  speaks  of  something  besides  themselves,  who 
know  how  to  talk  about  some  thing  other  than 
fashions  and  love.  Nathalie  was  one  of  these  ex- 
ceptions ;  that  was  why  Adhemar  was  so  happy 
when  with  her,  that  was  why  they  suited  each  other 
so  well. 

The  most  perfect  harmony  existed  between  the 
two  lovers,  when  one  day,  arriving  at  Madame 
Dermont's  sooner  than  usual,  the  servant  told  him 
that  her  mistress  was  not  in. 

"  What  1  she  has  gone  out  before  noon  to  make 
some  purchases,  no  doubt  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  monsieur  ;  but  I  am  quite  sure 
that  madame  won't  be  long  before  she  comes  in ; 
for  every  time  she  goes  out  like  that  in  the  morn- 
ing, she  always  comes  in  before  noon." 

"Every  time — she  goes  out  like  that?"  mut- 
tered Adhemar,  who  already  felt  his  heart  op- 
pressed. "  Oh,  Madame  Dermont  often  goes  out 
in  the  morning,  then  ?  " 

"  Mercy,  monsieur,  I  didn't  say  that  exactly  — 
but  several  times  lately  she  has." 

Adhemar  stopped  his  questions  then  and  there. 
He  threw  himself  into  an  armchair,  saying, — 

"  I  will  wait  for  her ;  no  doubt  she  will  tell  me 
where  she  has  been." 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      201 

And  he  tried  to  drive  from  his  mind  the  evil 
thoughts  that  were  ah-eady  besieging  it.  Five  min- 
utes had  barely  elapsed  when  Nathalie  came  in. 
She  seemed  rather  surprised  to  find  Adhemar  there ; 
but  she  went  to  him,  held  out  her  hand  to  him, 
and  smiled  as  usual. 

"  Good  morning,  my  dear." 

"  Good  morning,  madame." 

"  Why,  what  does  that  madame  mean  ?  Since 
when  have  I  become  madame  to  you  ?  is  it  because 
I  was  out  when  you  came  in  that  you  call  me 
madame  ? " 

"Why  no  —  it  was  simply  a  change." 

"  I  don't  like  such  changes  as  that !  What  is 
the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

"  Me  .?  nothing !   Have  you  been  for  a  walk  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  that  is  to  say  I  have  been  making  a 
visit. 

"  Ah,  a  visit !  Perhaps  it  would  be  indiscreet 
to  ask  you  whom  you  have  been  to  see  —  so  early 
in  the  morning." 

"  Why,  it  is  perhaps  rather  indiscreet !  How- 
ever, as  I  see  you  are  scowling,  and  as  you  prob- 
ably suspect  me  of  some  treason  already  —  " 

"  Why,  what  an  idea  !  " 

"  No,  you  are  incapable  of  that,  are  you  not  ? 
Well,  monsieur,  I've  been  to  see  my  poor  friend 
JuUette — are  you  satisfied  ?  " 

"  By  Jove  !  I  only  asked  you  that  by  way  of 
conversation." 


202  ADHEMAR 

"Yes,  I  understand  —  and  to  know  where  I  had 
been." 

"  And  youVe  seen  your  friend  Juliette  ?  " 

"  Of  course." 

"  And  you  have  been  to  see  her  quite  often  — 
for  some  time  past?  " 

"  Why  not,  if  I  can  console  her,  be  agreeable 
to  her,  listen  to  her  confidences  ?  If  you  have  any 
grief,  does  it  not  ease  you  when  a  true  friend  comes 
to  see  you  and  offers  you  consolation." 

"  Oh,  when  I'm  in  trouble,  I  keep  it  to  myself, 
I  don't  go  and  tell  it  to  others  !  " 

"  My  dear,  women  are  not  like  men  ;  when  they 
have  troubles —  love  troubles  above  all — they  like 
to  pour  out  their  hearts  in  the  bosom  of  a  friend." 

"  Yes,  women  are  very  fond  of  having  secrets 
among  themselves  —  of  making  mysteries — " 

"  Come,  you  have  not  yet  got  rid  of  your  bad 
thoughts;  as  if  I  could  not  read  them  in  your  eyes! 
You  promised  to  have  entire  confidence  in  me ! " 

"It  seems  to  me  I  am  proving  that  I  have  it  at 
this  moment." 

"  By  looking  cross  because  you  did  not  find  me 
when  you  came  here  this  morning !  Come,  my 
dear,  let  us  reason  a  little  ;  we  must  be  logical.  If 
I  do  not  love  you  I  am  not  obliged  to  tell  you  I 
do,  to  feign  feelings  which  I  do  not  experience,  to 
deceive  you,  in  fact,  am  I  ?  Come,  why  don't  you 
answer  me  ?  " 

Instead  of  answering,  Adhemar  rose,  walked 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       203 

about  the  room,  satdownto  the  piano  and  drummed 
upon  it,  beginning  waltzes,  polkas,  mazurkas,  then 
he  kissed  Nathalie,  saying, — 

"  Pardon  me,  dearest,  I  slept  ill,  last  night.  I 
have  a  bit  of  a  headache,  and  that  is  what  made  me 
seem  sulky  to  you." 

Nathalie  pretended  to  believe  this  and  harmony 
was  re-established,  apparently  at  least,  for  in  the 
depths  of  his  heart  Adhemar  felt  troubled;  he 
thought  of  these  frequent  morning  journeys,  for 
which  visiting  Juliette  was  the  pretext,  and  he  said 
to  himself,  "  She  used  not  to  go  out  so  often,  and 
she  would  always  tell  me  when  she  intended  to  go." 

Several  days  passed ;  Adhemar  often  changed 
the  hour  of  his  visits,  but  Madame  Dermont  was 
always  at  home ;  he  began  to  feel  a  little  more  tran- 
quil. However,  under  the  influence  of  that  jeal- 
ousy which,  in  him,  always  accompanied  true  love, 
it  happened  more  than  once,  after  he  left  Nathalie's, 
that  he  walked  up  and  down  in  the  street  for  a  long 
time,  or  placed  himself  under  a  neighboring  gate- 
way to  see  if  his  mistress  did  not  go  out  directly 
he  left  her ;  but  he  had  his  trouble  for  his  pains, 
at  which  he  was  of  course  delighted. 

One  morning  before  nine  o'clock  the  idea  came 
to  him  to  take  a  turn  in  the  street  where  Madame 
Dermont  lived.  "  I  shall  not  show  myself  at  her 
house,"  he  said  to  himself;  "she  gets  up  late,  and  I 
should  risk  disturbing  her  slumber — but  perhaps 
I  shall  see  her  servant  go  out  and  I  shall  charge  her 


204  ADHEMAR 

with  a  pretty  bunch  of  flowers  that  I  am  going  to 
buy  for  her  mistress.  Nathahe  will  find  them  be- 
fore her  when  she  wakes,  and  she  will  suspect  well 
where  they  come  from." 

Adhemar  dressed  hastily  and  went  and  bought 
a  handsome  bouquet  in  the  Passage  Verdeau.  Then 
he  went  to  the  Rue  de  Paradis-Poissoniere,  arrived 
in  front  of  the  house  where  Madame  Dermont 
dwelt,  looked  at  the  windows,  of  which  all  the  shut- 
ters were  as  yet  closed,  and  walked  up  and  down 
the  street,  looking  at  his  watch,  which  marked  the 
half  hour  after  nine.  It  was  too  soon  to  go  up  to 
Nathalie's,  but  he  hoped  that  the  servant  would 
come  out. 

Ten  minutes  rolled  by ;  Madame  Dermont's 
servant  had  not  appeared.  Adhemar  was  tired  of 
walking  in  the  street  with  his  bouquet  in  his  hand. 
He  had  almost  decided  to  go  up,  saying  to  himself, 
"I  will  ring  very  gently,  so  as  not  to  awaken  her," 
when  a  cab  came  very  fast  in  his  direction,  and  slack- 
ened speed  as  it  neared  Madame  Dermont's  dwell- 
ing. Without  being  able  to  give  any  reason  for 
it,  Adhemar  drew  a  little  aside.  Something  told 
him  that  the  cab  was  interesting  to  him,  and  he 
wanted  to  see  who  alighted  from  it. 

The  cab  stopped  in  front  of  Nathalie's  gate,  a 
young  lady  got  out  of  it,  paid  the  cabman,  and  has- 
tened into  the  house.  But  this  woman  Adhemar 
recognized  ;  there  was  no  mistaking  her,  he  had 
seen  her  features,  he  had  recognized  her  dress,  the 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      205 

hat  which  she  wore  of  a  morning  when  she  went 
out  —  it  was  she,  it  was  Nathalie.  For  an  instant 
Adhemar  was  on  the  point  of  running  after  her  and 
calling  to  her, — 

"  Where  do  you  come  from  ? " 

But  he  thought  that  she  might  again  lie  to  him  ; 
a  better  idea  came  to  him.  The  cab  was  still  there, 
the  cabby  was  about  to  mount  to  his  box  again ; 
Adhemar  ran  to  him,  opened  the  door,  threw  him- 
self into  the  vehicle,  and  taking  ten  francs  from  his 
pocket  put  it  in  the  cabby's  hand  as  he  asked  where 
he  was  to  go.  The  man  was  quite  surprised  that 
the  gentleman  should  give  him  ten  francs  before 
he  had  employed  him  ;  he  said, — 

"  It  will  be  a  long  trip,  then,  we  are  going  into 
the  country  no  doubt,  boss." 

"These  ten  francs  are  to  pay  you  for  simply 
answering  some  questions.  A  lady  has  just  got  out 
of  your  cab?" 

"Yes,  boss,  a  pretty  little  woman  —  the  right 
kind.     I  know  them  when  I  see  them  ! " 

"  Where  did  you  take  her  ? " 

"Where  did  I  take  her?  why,  here,  boss,  an  hour 
and  a  quarter  or  so  ago,  it  didn't  quite  make  the 
half  hour,  but  the  little  lady  paid  me  generously 
without  bargaining." 

"  Then  she  took  you  by  the  hour  on  leaving 
here?" 

"  That's  correct." 

"And  where  did  you  carry  her  ?  don't  lie  to  me." 


2o6  ADHfiMAR 

"  You  pay  too  well  for  me  to  lie  to  you !  besides, 
it's  no  secret.  I  took  the  lady  to  the  Jardin  des 
Plantes." 

"  To  the  Jardin  des  Plantes  ?  " 

"  Yes,  boss,  in  front  of  the  railing  at  the  water's 
edge.  She  got  down  there  and  she  told  me  to  wait, 
and  then  she  went  into  the  garden." 

"Alone?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  alone  when  she  went  in,  but  when 
she  came  back,  at  the  end  of  a  good  quarter  of  an 
hour,  she  was  not  alone." 

"  Who  was  with  her?  " 

"  A  gentleman  —  a  young  man." 

**  A  young  man  —  what  was  he  like?  his  dress? 
his  features  ? " 

"  Excuse  me,  but  you  can  imagine  I  didn't  take 
his  photograph  —  he  was  dressed,  like  everyone 
else,  in  a  sack  coat,  he  seemed  a  nice  enough  fellow 
to  me.     That's  all  I  can  tell  you." 

"  And  this  man  —  this  gentleman,  this  sack- 
coated  individual,  he  came  back  with  the  lady,  you 
say  ?  he  gave  her  his  arm  ?  " 

"  Ah,  that  I  can't  swear  to,  I  was  on  my  seat  and 
I  didn't  see  them  till  they  were  right  beside  my 
carriage,  where  the  young  man  helped  the  lady  in." 

"  And  got  in  with  her  ? " 

"  No,  no,  he  didn't  get  in  —  not  he ;  he  said 
good-by." 

"  How  did  he  say  good-by  ?  Did  he  kiss  her? 
did  he  kiss  her  hand  ?  " 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      207 

"  By  jingo  !  I  was  fixing  my  reins  and  I  didn't 
see  them  kiss.  The  lady  called  to  me,  *  Take  me 
back  where  we  started  from,'  the  young  man  shut 
the  door,  and  went  off — only,  yes,  I  remember 
that  in  leaving  he  said  to  the  young  lady,  *  Thank 
you !  thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  coming ! ' 
Now,  boss,  where  do  you  want  me  to  drive  you?" 

"  To  the  Jardin  des  Plantes,  to  the  same  place 
where  this  lady  got  down." 

Adhemar,  his  head  burning,  his  heart  beating 
violently,  put  his  hands  to  his  forehead,  exclaim- 
ing,— 

"  It  is  quite  certain  now  that  she  also  has  de- 
ceived me ;  and  she  dared  to  tell  me  that  she  loved 
me  !  Ah,  people  don't  deceive  those  they  love.  It 
is  ended,  quite  ended,  this  time.  I  will  see  her  no 
more,  for  she  will  lie  to  me  again ;  she  will  forge 
stories  to  make  me  think  she  is  innocent.  And  I 
shall  perhaps  be  foolish  enough  to  place  faith  in 
her  words.  Why,  no,  I  will  not  be  her  dupe  again. 
I  will  see  her  no  more.  But  this  man  with  whom 
she  makes  appointments  so  early  in  the  morning. 
Ah,  if  I  could  but  know  him — I  would  kill  him; 
however,  it  is  not  he  who  is  guilty ;  he  loves  her 
—  but  not  as  I  love  her  !  " 

Glancing  around  him,  Adhemar  perceived  a 
handkerchief  at  his  feet ;  he  picked  it  up,  exam- 
ined it,  recognized  NathaHe's  initial,  which  he  had 
seen  her  embroider  herself;  he  pressed  the  hand- 
kerchief in  his  nervous  hands,  muttering, — 


2o8  ADHEMAR 

"  She  was  so  preoccupied  that  she  forgot  her 
handkerchief.  Just  now  she  was  here,  in  this  place 
—  and  she  was  thinking  of  some  one  else." 

He  could  no  longer  master  his  sorrow,  his  sobs 
came  fast,  his  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks,  but  he 
still  felt  it  pleasurable  to  wipe  them  with  that 
handkerchief  which  belonged  to  her. 

The  cab  stopped  and  the  cabby  opened  the  door, 
saying,— 

"  Boss,  this  is  exactly  the  place  where  the  little 
lady  got  down,  and  where  I  waited  for  her  —  this 
is  the  Jardin  des  Plantes." 

Adhemar,  plunged  in  his  reflections, in  his  mem- 
ories, did  not  know  where  he  was,  or  where  he  was 
going.  The  cabby's  words  recalled  him  to  himself. 
He  jumped  quickly  out  of  the  cab,  then  he  said  to 
the  man, — 

"  You  will  come  with  me." 

"  Where  to,  boss .''  " 

"  Into  the  Jardin  des  Plantes." 

"  Vehicles  can't  go  in  there ;  it  is  forbidden." 

"  I  wasn't  talking  about  your  cab ;  I  only  need 
you;  we'll  walk  about  the  gardens,  you  will  look 
attentively  at  all  the  men  you  see,  and  if  you  rec- 
ognize the  one  who  brought  the  lady  to  your  cab, 
you  will  point  him  out  to  me  immediately." 

The  cabby  began  to  laugh  as  he  answered, — 

"Come  now,  that's  a  good  one !  You  want  me 
to  follow  you  on  foot ;  and  my  cab  and  my  horses 
— what's  to  become  of  them  while  I  am  gone?" 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      209 

"  By  Jove  !  they  aren't  likely  to  fly  away !  you 
go  and  put  your  cab  down  there  where  those  others 
are  standing." 

"  That  can't  be,  boss,  it  is  against  orders  for  us 
to  lose  sight  of  our  cabs  or  horses ;  I  should  be 
punished  —  have  my  license  taken  away." 

Adhemar  took  another  ten  francs  from  his  pocket 
and  put  them  in  the  cabby's  hand,  saying, — 

"  Only  a  few  turns  in  the  garden  —  during  your 
absence  one  of  your  comrades  down  there  will  look 
after  your  horses." 

Money  always  produces  its  effect,  the  cabman 
was  mollified,  then  he  exclaimed, — 

"I'll  go  and  ask  Jerome,  he's  down  there,  I 
think  he'll  watch  my  horses,  if  I  share  my  ten 
francs  with  him;  will  that  do,  boss?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  wait,  here  are  a  hundred  sous  you 
can  give  him.     Go  !  quick  !  " 

"  Oh,  Jerome's  a  good  fellow,  he'll  be  wilHng." 

The  cabby  drove  to  the  cab  stand,  told  his  com- 
rade what  he  wanted,  and  showed  him  the  last 
hundred  sous  he  had  received,  saying,  "  We'll  eat 
that  together,  you  and  I,  presently."  Jerome  ac- 
cepted, the  cabby  pocketed  the  hundred  sous  and 
came  back  to  Adhemar,  saying, — 

"  Here  I  am!  it  is  settled.  Jerome  will  have  an 
eye  to  my  beasts." 

"  Then  come  with  me." 

They  went  into  the  garden.  The  coachman 
walked  beside  Adhemar,  who  said  to  him, — 


2IO  adh£mar 

"  Look  well  at  all  the  men,  the  young  men,  and 
as  soon  as  you  recognize  the  one  who  brought  this 
lady,  say  to  me,  *  Here  he  is.*  " 

"  Yes,  boss,  or  rather,  I  will  cough  to  warn  you." 

"  That  is  understood." 

There  were  very  few  people  in  the  garden. 
Adhemar  hastened  his  steps;  the  cabman  could 
hardly  keep  up  with  him  and  said, — 

"  Dang  it !  why,  you  go  as  fast  as  my  horses  !  " 

A  young  man  passed  near  them,  the  cabman 
began  to  cough. 

"  Well,"  cried  Adhemar,  stopping. 

"  That  isn't  the  one,  boss." 

"Why  the  devil  did  you  cough  then  ?" 

"  Why,  to  warn  you  that  it  wasn't  him." 

They  set  off  walking  again.  They  met  several 
young  men,  but  the  cabman  did  not  cough  again, 
only  he  said  from  time  to  time, — 

**  But  if  Jerome  should  get  a  fare,  who  will  watch 
my  horses  for  me  ?  " 

Then,  after  pausing  for  a  moment,  he  said  to 
Adhemar, — 

"Wait,  monsieur,  I  ought  to  confess  something." 

"What  is  that?" 

"  It  is  that  if  I  should  not  recognize  the  indi- 
vidual you  are  looking  for,  it  will  be  because  I  hardly 
looked  at  him,  hardly  saw  him,  and  I  don't  even 
know  if  he  was  light  or  dark." 

Adhemar  stamped  his  foot  impatiently,  and, 
realizing  fully  that  his  search  would  be  fruitless, 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      211 

decided  to  leave  the  garden.  The  cabby  uttered 
an  exclamation  of  joy  on  seeing  his  friend  Jerome 
still  in  his  place,  and  said  to  the  person  who  had 
paid  him, — 

"  Where  shall  I  drive  you  to  now,  monsieur  ?  " 

"  Nowhere,  thank  you.  I  have  no  further  need 
of  you." 

In  his  present  state  of  mind  Adhemar  preferred 
walking  to  getting  into  the  cab  again.  He  needed 
air  and  exercise  and  walked  quickly,  often  with- 
out even  looking  before  him  ;  he  reached  his  dwell- 
ing, however,  and  had  hardly  got  in  when  he 
hurried  to  his  desk,  saying, — 

"  I  will  write  to  her,  I  must  not  delay  telling 
her  that  I  am  aware  of  her  treachery.  Then  all 
will  be  over.     I  must  try  to  forget  her." 

And  with  a  feverish  hand,  which  his  thoughts 
impelled  to  fly  over  the  paper,  he  wrote  Nathalie 
the  following  note, — 

Madame,  you  can  no  longer  deceive  me ;  this  time  I  have 
seen  with  my  own  eyes  that  you  devote  to  another  the  time  you 
pass  away  from  me.  And  you  tell  me  I  am  wrong  to  be  jealous! 
Your  treachery  is  unworthy  of  you.  Why  did  you  not  say 
frankly  that  you  had  ceased  to  love  me — but  women  will  never  be 
frank.  It  is  their  nature  to  deceive.  I  knew  this,  and  I  should 
not  have  believed  you.  Good-by,  madame,  and  this  time  it 
is  indeed  forever. 

After  signing  and  sealing  this  letter,  Adhemar 
called  a  messenger  and  ordered  him  to  give  the 
missive  to  the  person  to  whom  it  was  addressed. 


212  ADHEMAR 

and  to  come  away  immediately,  saying  that  there 
was  no  answer. 

Then,  throwing  himself  into  an  easy  chair,  and 
resting  his  head  on  his  hand,  he  remained  plunged 
in  his  reflections  and  muttered,  "  Oh,  if  only  I 
could  forget  her  1 " 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Monsieur  Seringat's  Secret 

Disinherited  by  his  aunt,  and  possessing  as 
his  whole  fortune  barely  a  hundred  francs,  Dodi- 
chet  should  have  sought  an  occupation  which  would 
have  procured  him  the  means  of  existence ;  instead 
of  that  he  went  to  buy  tobacco,  cigars,  went  into 
a  cafe  to  have  some  beer,  then  got  into  a  cab  and 
had  himself  driven  to  the  Rue  Saint- Jacques, 
where  he  stopped  in  front  of  the  so-called  hotel 
where  he  had  left  M.  Seringat;  on  the  way  he 
said  to  himself, — 

"  I  must  again  have  recourse  to  this  idiot ;  it  is 
vexatious,  for  I  already  owe  him  a  thousand  crowns, 
and  now  I  can't  see  an  inheritance  in  the  future, 
by  means  of  which  I  can  pay  him  —  but  then,  no 
one  knows,  the  public  will  not  be  so  hard  to  me 
everywhere  as  they  were  at  Quimper-Corentin. 
My  voice  will  come  back.  I'll  put  myself  on  a 
diet  of  yolks  of  eggs  and  egg  flip;  and  meanwhile, 
Seringat  can  very  well  lend  me  a  thousand  crowns; 
he  is  rich.  If  he  were  not  rich,  I  would  ask  noth- 
ing of  him  —  if  only  for  the  reason  that  he  would 
have  nothing  to  give  me.  But  he  himself  said  to 
me,  as  we  were  talking,  that  he  possessed  twelve 

213 


214  ADHfeMAR 

thousand  francs  income.  The  idiot !  he  might  be 
so  happy  with  that,  and  to  think  that  he's  hiding 
because  he's  afraid  that  they'll  recognize  him,  and 
all  because  his  wife  —  really  it's  unbelievable  1  I 
am  sure  there  is  not  his  equal  in  Paris." 

Dodichet  sent  away  his  cab  when  he  reached  the 
old  house ;  he  crossed  the  courtyard,  and  at  the  end 
of  it,  on  the  groundfloor,  found  the  proprietor, 
who  was  also  the  portress  and  the  hostess  of  the 
hotel ;  this  lady  multiplied  her  occupations  that 
she  might  increase  her  profits ;  at  this  moment  she 
was  preparing  snails  a  la  proven9ale,  first  taking 
them  out  of  their  shells,  filling  the  latter  with  a 
forcemeat  strongly  seasoned  with  garlic,  then  put- 
ting back  the  univalve  in  the  shell,  and  simmering 
the  whole  over  a  slow  fire. 

"  Why,  that  smells  good,"  said  Dodichet  as  he 
entered;  "ah,  you  are  cooking  snails,  madame." 

"  Yes,  monsieur,  and  I  dare  to  assert  they  will 
be  delicious." 

"  I  am  not  very  fond  of  snails  myself;  I  think 
that  when  they  are  cooked  they  are  exactly  like 
India-rubber;  however,  they  have  a  very  seductive 
smell." 

"  They  are  cooked  a  la  proven9ale.  If  monsieur 
desires  a  portion,  it  costs  six  sous,  that  is  not  dear." 

"  By  Jove,  no !  and  one  has  to  come  to  the  top 
of  the  Rue  Saint- Jacques  to  find  a  well-cooked  dish 
at  that  price,  in  Paris.  Put  a  portion  on  one  side 
for  me.     I'll  eat  them  when  I  have  my  friend 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      215 

Miflores.  For  I  think  Miflores  is  at  home,  isn't 
he?  and  I'll  go  up  to  him." 

The  landlady  dropped  a  snail  she  was  just  going 
to  finish  ;  she  looked  at  Dodichet  with  a  tragic  ex- 
pression and  cried, — 

"  Stop,  monsieur,  don't  go  up  1  it  is  useless  — 
you  won't  find  M.  Miflores." 

"  He's  gone  out.  Oh,  well,  then  I'll  wait  for 
him,  and  eat  my  snails  at  once,  he  won't  be  long 
out,  I  think." 

"  Excuse  me,  monsieur,  but  I  can  assure  you 
that  he  will  not  come  in  again !  " 

"  What,  he  won't  come  in  again?  Has  he  moved 
then  ?     What  does  this  mean  ?  " 

"You  don't  know  what  has  happened  then, 
monsieur  ? " 

"  Hang  it,  madame,  if  I  knew  what  had  hap- 
pened, I  shouldn't  ask  you  !  " 

"  Well,  then,  monsieur,  I'll  tell  you  all  that  has 
passed.  But  permit  me  first  to  pick  up  the  snail 
I  dropped." 

"That's  right — it  will  cook  with  the  others." 

"  Fire  purifies  everything,  monsieur.  I  have  it. 
It  will  be  exactly  a  fortnight  tomorrow  since  a 
gentleman,  middle-aged,  very  well  dressed,  and 
very  jovial-looking,  came  to  my  hotel,  followed  by 
a  porter  bearing  his  luggage.  He  asked  for  a  com- 
fortable room  and  announced  that  he  expected  to 
spend  a  couple  of  weeks  in  Paris,  where  he  had 
come  to  amuse  himself  and  take  a  holiday  from 


2i6  ADHEMAR 

business,  and  he  gave  me  his  name — Jacques  Ron- 
flard.  Very  good !  I  installed  this  gentleman  in  a 
room  on  the  first  floor  which  looks  on  to  this  court- 
yard ;  he  soon  went  out  and  did  not  return  till  very 
late.  The  next  morning  your  friend,  M.  Miflores, 
went  out,  according  to  his  custom,  to  walk  about  a 
little  before  breakfast.  Hardly  had  he  gone  when 
my  new  lodger,  M.  Ronflard,  came  down  from  his 
room  and  said  to  me, — 

"'Confound  it,  you  have  some  one  I  know  here; 
I've  just  seen  him  through  the  window.  I  recog- 
nized him  perfectly.  I  am  delighted  to  meet  him 
in  the  same  hotel  —  he's  one  of  my  friends,  is  this 
dear  Seringat,  and  from  Pontoise  like  myself.'  I 
looked  at  the  gentleman  and  I  answered, — 

"*  Why,  monsieur,  you  are  mistaken,  I  have  no 
one  at  the  hotel,  called  Seringat.' 

"  *  Excuse  me,  madame,  for  I  have  just  this  mo- 
ment seen  him  leave  this  house.' 

"'The  gentleman  whom  you  saw  leaving  the 
house  is  called  Miflores,  and  not  Seringat,  and  he 
has  never  said  that  he  came  from  Pontoise.' 

"  *  Madame,  he  has  apparently  thought  fit  to 
change  his  name,  but  I  am  perfectly  sure  that  the 
individual  who  has  just  gone  out  is  named  Serin- 
gat, a  former  dispensing  chemist  at  Pontoise.  Hang 
it!  I  know  him  well,  I  have  often  bought  powder 
of  him  to  destroy  bedbugs.  Poor  Seringat,  poor 
chap,  he  has  been  much  tried.  His  wife  —  you 
know  what  I  mean  ?     The  whole  town  knew  it ; 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      217 

they  even  made  a  song  on  him.  Wait,  I  remem- 
ber a  verse  of  it,  it  went  to  the  tune  of  the  "  Bells  of 
Dunkirk," '  and  thereupon  the  gentleman  started 
off  singing, — 

Seringat  of  Pontoise  ! 
He  made  such  a  noise. 
That  all  the  town  knew 
That  his  wife  was  untrue  ! 

Then  he  went  up  to  his  room  again,  saying  to  me, 
'  As  a  proof  that  what  I  say  is  true,  I  shall  throw 
myself  in  his  arms  when  he  returns.  Do  me  the 
kindness  to  tell  me  when  he  is  coming.' 

"  This  gentleman  went  up  to  his  room  again 
and,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  was  quite  indifferent 
as  to  whether  the  gentleman  was  or  was  not  the 
hero  of  the  song.  At  the  end  of  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  M.  Miflores  came  in.  As  soon  as  I  saw  him, 
the  first  thing  I  did  was  to  say  to  him,  *  Monsieur, 
is  it  true  that  your  name  is  Seringat  ?  and  that  you 
come  from  Pontoise  ?  There's  a  gentleman  here 
in  the  house  who  says  he  recognizes  you.  He 
even  knows  a  song  about  you.  He  begged  me  to 
let  him  know  when  you  came  in.'  Thereupon  I 
saw  the  poor  gentleman  change  color,  roll  his  eyes, 
and  clench  his  fists,  as  he  said  to  me, — 

"  *  Madame,  I  forbid  you  to  let  this  gentleman 
know  I  have  come  in.  Have  my  bill  made  out, 
I'll  go  up  and  get  my  effects  and  leave  this  hotel 
immediately.' 

"  I  promised  him  to  say  nothing  to  the  other. 


2i8  ADHEMAR 

but  he  would  not  listen  to  me,  he  went  up  to  his 
room,  got  his  valise,  came  down,  paid  me,  and 
departed.  But  from  his  window  M.  Ronflard  had 
seen  him  go  out.     He  came  down  exclaiming, — 

"  *  What !  he's  gone  ?  he  did  not  wait  for  me  ? 
Oh,  well,  I'll  soon  catch  up  with  him.' 

"  And  he  went  out  to  try  and  rejoin  his  friend. 
He  saw  M.  Miflores  in  front  of  him,  but  the  latter 
turned  and,  seeing  that  he  was  followed,  he  set  off 
running  as  if  the  devil  was  after  him.  M.  Ron- 
flard was  stubborn  and  followed,  and  it  seems  he 
shouted  after  him,  *You  can't  escape  like  this, 
Seringat ;  it's  Ronflard ;  don't  you  recognize  me  ? ' 

"  The  gentlemen  from  Pontoise  ran  faster  than 
ever.  Some  one  who  saw  them  both  running  in 
the  street  told  me  that  he  thought  they  were  going 
to  look  for  the  firemen.  In  short,  M.  Miflores 
had  reached  the  water's  edge,  he  went  on  to  the 
bank  and  saw  a  boatman  going  down  the  river,  to 
whom  he  made  a  sign  that  he  would  like  to  get 
aboard  his  boat.  The  boatman  came  in  to  the  bank 
and  threw  a  plank  that  he  might  cross  to  the  boat. 
At  this  moment  M.  Ronflard  approached  the  per- 
son he  was  pursuing,  and  began  to  sing  at  the  top 
of  his  voice, — 

Seringat  of  Pontoise  ! 
He  made  such  a  noise. 
That  all  the  town  knew 
That  his  wife  was  untrue  ! 

"  Hardly  had  he  heard  this  song  when  poor 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      219 

M.  Miflores  darted  on  the  plank,  that  he  might 
reach  the  vesseh  But  his  foot  sHpped,  and  he  fell 
into  the  water.  The  current  carried  him  along, 
he  could  not  swim.  When  they  managed  to  fish 
him  out  he  no  longer  lived,  he  was  dead ! " 

"  Dead  !  —  he  was  dead  !  Poor  Seringat,  for 
that  was  really  his  true  name.  Well,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed that  M.  Ronflard  made  a  nice  mess  of  it." 

"  Why,  monsieur,  it  seems  he  was  so  grieved 
at  it  that  it  gave  him  a  jaundice  and  it  was  only 
yesterday  that  he  left  Paris.  He  said,  as  he  left, 
*  I'm  going  to  inform  Madame  Seringat  that  she 
is  a  widow,  and  I'm  sure  that  she  won't  be  so  put 
out  about  it  as  I  am.' " 

Dodichet  remained  for  some  moments  under  the 
impression  of  the  news  he  had  received.  Then  he 
seated  himself  at  the  table,  saying, — 

"  Madame,  will  you  give  me  my  dish  of  snails, 
with  some  bread  and  some  wine,  for  my  not  eating 
them  will  not  restore  poor  Seringat  to  life,  a  good 
reason  why  I  would  just  as  soon  eat  them." 

The  hostess  hastened  to  serve  Dodichet,  and  re- 
mained near  him  to  engage  in  conversation,  which 
was  the  sweetest  pastime  for  this  lady.  Dodichet 
heaved  from  time  to  time  a  slight  sigh,  but  he  lost 
no  time  from  his  repast. 

"  Does  monsieur  find  my  snails  to  his  tast«  ?  " 

"Very  good,  madame;  perfectly  cooked.  You 
almost  make  me  like  this  kind  of  shell  food  —  and 
forget  the  loss  I  have  had.      Poor  Seringat !  " 


220  ADHEMAR 

"  Did  monsieur  lose  much  by  his  death  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  really  lost  everything  I  had  in  pros- 
pect. 

"  This  gentleman  owed  you  money,  then  ?  " 

"  No,  not  exactly.  But  it  comes  to  the  same 
thing." 

''  You  will  have  recourse  to  the  wife  —  to  your 
friend's  widow? " 

"  No,  I  have  not  the  slightest  claim  on  her. 
Nothing  remains  for  me  now  but  to  give  a  last 
sigh  to  the  defunct  and  turn  to  something  else. 
How  much  do  I  owe  you,  madame  ? " 

"  Monsieur,  the  dish,  the  wine,  and  the  bread, 
come  all  together  to  sixteen  sous." 

"  Well,  upon  my  honor  that  isn't  dear.  When 
I  want  to  feast  a  mistress,  I  shall  bring  her  here, 
and  I'm  more  likely  to  do  so  because  I  don't  see 
any  prospect  of  a  dinner  at  Brebant's." 

Dodichet  paid  his  score  and  left  the  old  hotel 
which  he  had  previously  thought  so  bad,  and  which 
now  he  was  not  sorry  to  know  of,  for  he  regarded 
it  as  a  resource  in  adversity.  He  betook  himself 
to  Boulotte's.  The  wine  he  had  drunk  with  his 
snails  had  not  been  strong  enough  to  go  to  his  head, 
and  he  reflected  on  his  position.  The  two  events 
which  had  so  suddenly  happened  to  him  one  after 
the  other  had  destroyed  all  his  hopes,  and  rendered 
his  present  very  precarious.  However,  he  would 
not  let  himself  be  cast  down,  his  care-free  disposi- 
tion prevented  his  disquieting  himself  about  the 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      221 

future.  These  are  the  happiest  dispositions,  so 
some  people  assert.  Such  men  as  this  are  never 
bilious,  and  see  everything  through  rose-colored 
spectacles.  I  am  not  of  that  opinion ;  to  be  care- 
free, happy-go-lucky,  is  disorderly,  and  disorder  is 
ruin ;  that  is  the  result  of  these  happy  dispositions. 

When  Dodichet  arrived  at  the  young  dancer's 
she  was  not  making  mineral  rouge  from  bricks, 
but  shewas  making  a  pretty  tracery  of  blue  veins  on 
her  temples  with  indigo.  When  she  saw  her  lover 
she  threw  aside  her  paint-brush  and  ran  to  kiss  him, 
exclaiming, — 

"  Here  you  are  !  oh,  how  pleased  I  am.  Tell 
me  about  your  debut,  your  success.  You  must 
have  received  crowns,  made  conquests.  You  were 
so  handsome  as  Joconde.  How  many  times  were 
you  called  before  the  curtain  ? " 

Dodichet  threw  himself  on  a  chair  and  an- 
swered,— 

"They  recalled  me,  it  is  true,  but  I  did  not  wish 
to  re-appear,  because  they  wanted  to  do  me  an  ill 
turn,  and  I  had  barely  time  to  escape  in  a  fireman's 
helmet  and  a  gendarme's  cloak." 

"  What  are  you  telling  me  now?  Was  it  some 
farce  you  were  playing  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  it  was  against  me ;  the  public  of  Quim- 
per  hissed  at  me,  sent  me  to  the  bears,  but  I  turned 
round  and  showed  them  the  other  side  of  my  face. 
Thereupon  shouts,  scandal,  rumpus  ;  and,  as  I  told 
you  before,  1  had  barely  time  to  save  myself" 


222  ADHEMAR 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  and  your  pretty  costume  ?  " 

"  I  resold  it  on  the  way  home,  that  I  might  get 
myself  a  pair  of  trousers  and  a  sack  coat." 

"So  that's  how  you  made  your  first  appearance. 
Well,  I  suppose  you'll  have  to  begin  all  over  again  ? " 

"  Thank  you,  I  have  no  desire  to  begin  over  again, 
in  the  same  line.    My  voice  will  never  come  back." 

"  Ah,  you  smoke  too  much,  I  told  you  so  !  For- 
tunately your  aunt  is  dead.  Some  one  who  knows 
you  told  me." 

"  Yes,  my  aunt  is  dead,  that's  true,  but  she  has 
disinherited  me." 

"Oh,  my  poor  friend!  what  a  piece  of  hard  luck. 
But,  thank  heaven,  you've  still  got  your  gold  mine 
—  that  gentleman  who  can't  refuse  you  when  you 
want  to  borrow  of  him  —  the  man  of  the  secret." 

"  My  darling,  the  man  with  the  secret  has  done 
the  same  as  my  aunt;  that  is  to  say,  he  hasn't  dis- 
inherited me,  but  he  is  dead  also." 

"  Good  heavens  !  —  was  it  because  some  one 
spoke  to  him  of  Pontoise  ?  " 

"  They  did  more,  they  sang  a  song  to  him  that 
was  composed  on  him  in  Pontoise,  and  in  which 
they  made  game  of  his  misfortune,  for  now  I  may 
really  tell  you  what  that  idiot  feared  so  much  to  have 
known.  The  noble  Seringat  had  a  very  pretty 
wife,  and  he  thought  her  a  Lucretia.  This  gentle- 
man had  an  unfortunate  habit  of  making  game  of 
husbands  whose  wives  betrayed  them,  and  of  laugh- 
ing at  their  expense,  declaring  loudly  that  such  a 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      223 

thing  could  never  happen  to  him.  But  on  a  cer- 
tain day  at  a  fete,  our  Seringat  saw  a  veiled  lady 
at  a  distance  glide  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening  into 
an  isolated  tent.  Feeling  assured  that  the  lady  he 
had  seen  was  the  wife  of  one  of  the  prominent  men 
of  the  town,  Seringat  got  several  young  men  to- 
gether, imparted  to  them  his  discovery,  and  led  them 
to  the  tent,  which  was  not  lighted  ;  but  into  which 
these  gentlemen  took  several  torches,  under  the 
pretext  of  lighting  it.  What  did  they  find  there? 
Why,  Madame  Seringat  in  criminal  conversation 
with  a  young  officer.  Who  was  crestfallen  ?  who 
was  ashamed  now  ?  Why,  this  Seringat ;  for  all  the 
husbands  of  Pontoise  took  their  revenge,  and  be- 
fore the  night  was  over  his  adventure  was  being 
sung  all  over  the  place.  Seringat,  vexed  at  him- 
self and  furious  at  being  himself  that  which  he  had 
always  made  fun  of,  the  next  day  left  Pontoise, 
swearing  he  would  never  go  back.  He  made  peo- 
ple call  him  Miflores,  and  they  could  get  anything 
they  wanted  of  him  when  they  recognized  him  or 
threatened  to  divulge  his  name  and  his  adventure. 
And  he  perished  at  last  because  a  gentleman  from 
Pontoise  ran  after  him  calling  him  by  his  right 
name  and  singing  after  him  a  verse  which  dwelt 
on  his  misfortune.  In  his  haste  to  escape,  Serin- 
gat, who  wanted  to  board  a  vessel,  made  a  misstep, 
fell  into  the  river,  and  was  drowned.  You  know 
now,  my  dear,  why  this  gentleman  lent  me  money. 
He  had  so  much  self-respect,  he  was  so  vexed  at 


224  ADHEMAR 

wearing  a  pair  of  horns,  that  one  had  but  to  threaten 
to  divulge  all  this  to  obtain  all  that  one  wished." 

"  Good  gracious  !  what  an  idea  !  What  a  sim- 
pleton he  was  to  throw  himself  into  the  water  for 
fear  they  should  know  that  his  wife  was  unfaithful. 
What  are  you  going  to  do  now,  Dodichet?" 

"  Tomorrow  I'll  go  and  see  the  agent  for  the 
theatres.  I'll  tell  him  that  now  I  play  in  dramas, 
the  leading  parts,  like  Frederick- Lemaitre,  Melin- 
gue  and  Dumaine ;  he  will  soon  find  me  an  en- 
gagement in  some  big  town." 

"  You  are  sure  you  have  talent,  then  ?  " 

"  By  Jove  !  one  always  has  talents  ;  it's  only  a 
question  of  finding  them.  Look  you,  something 
tells  me  I  have  dramatic  talent  within  me." 

"  And  you  want  to  make  it  come  out  ?  " 

"  I  wish  to  find  at  last  my  true  vocation.  After 
all,  I  still  have  a  little  money  left  in  my  pockets, 
I  can  take  you  to  dear  Bonvalet's ;  on  the  way  I 
will  buy  several  play  books,  and  this  evening  I  will 
learn  by  heart  some  of  the  leading  parts." 

"  The  idea  !  "  said  Boulotte,  putting  on  her  lit- 
tle bonnet,  "  this  evening  you  will  smoke." 


CHAPTER  XV 

The  End  of  the  Year.     Little  Streams 

Having  firmly  resolved  that  he  would  not  see 
Madame  Dermont  again,  Adhemar,  not  knowing 
how  to  resist  the  inclination  he  felt  to  seek  her,  to 
see  her,  even  if  it  was  but  from  afar,  suddenly  got 
the  idea  of  going  to  England.  He  hardly  gave 
himself  time  to  pack  a  few  things  into  his  valise, 
he  put  a  sufficient  sum  in  his  purse,  and  flew  to 
the  railway  which  led  to  Boulogne ;  from  there  he 
soon  made  the  passage ;  he  believed  he  should 
escape  his  memories  in  leaving  his  country,  and 
hastened  to  London. 

He  passed  six  weeks  there,  which  seemed  six  years 
in  duration  ;  he  did  his  best  to  fall  in  love  with  an 
Englishwoman,  but  could  not  manage  it,  and  re- 
turned at  length  to  Paris,  saying  to  himself,  "  I 
think  it  would  be  easier  for  me  to  fall  in  love  with 
a  Parisian  ;  besides,  now  it  is  ended,  I  think  no 
more  of  Nathalie  ;  for  her  part  she  no  doubt  goes 
with  the  young  man  she  went  to  meet  in  the  Jar- 
din  des  Plantes.  Oh,  hereafter  the  sight  of  her 
will  not  produce  the  slightest  impression  upon  me, 
and  I  can  meet  her  without  a  fluctuation  of  the 
heart.    I  love  her  no  longer." 

Vol.  XXIV       225 


126  ADHfiMAR 

However,  on  reaching  Paris,  Adhemar's  first 
care  was  to  go  and  look  at  the  window  of  her  whom 
he  pretended  to  no  longer  love.  He  walked  up 
and  down  for  a  long  time  before  her  dwelling,  ex- 
amined all  those  who  went  in  or  came  out,  and  at 
length  returned  home  saying,  "  It  is  the  force  of 
habit  and  will  soon  pass."  And  for  a  week  he  con- 
tinued his  promenades  in  the  Rue  de  Paradis-Pois- 
sonniere.  The  ninth  day,  while  taking  the  same 
way,  he  remembered  that  it  was  exactly  a  year  since 
he  had  found  himself  with  his  three  friends  in  the 
cafe  which  was  on  the  corner  of  the  boulevard  and 
the  Faubourg  Poissonniere,and  that  all  four  of  them 
had  appointed  to  meet  there  at  the  end  of  a  year. 
So,  changing  his  path,  he  turned  towards  the  cafe, 
curious  to  learn  if  his  friends  would  also  remember 
the  appointment,  and  seizing  every  occasion  which 
might  distract  him  from  his  one  thought. 

On  entering  the  cafe,  Adhemar  saw  Philemon 
Dubotte,  who  was  solacing  himself  with  some  hot 
spirits  and  water  and  a  paper,  and  who  extended 
his  hand  exclaiming, — 

"  Bravo  !  here  are  two  men  of  their  word  !  two 
men  who  have  some  memory.  Oh,  I  never  had 
the  slightest  doubt  about  you,  my  dear  fellow  ! 
How  are  you  ?  I  think  you  are  rather  pale  —  did 
not  the  London  air  agree  with  you?  for  you've  just 
got  back  from  England,  they  tell  me." 

"  Yes,  the  London  air  is  not  quite  clear.  It  is 
composed  in  great  part  of  smoke  and  fog ;  how- 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       227 

ever,  it  is  not  malarial,  the  vicinity  of  the  sea  drives 
away  bad  vapors." 

"  Did  you  make  any  conquests  there  ?  that  goes 
without  saying,  however." 

"  Indeed,  I  had  not  the  slightest  intrigue." 

"  You  astonish  me.  I  have  counted  on  going 
to  England  myself,  expressly  to  learn  how  the 
English  make  love." 

"  Beware  !  the  English  take  it  much  more  seri- 
ously than  do  the  French." 

"  Meanwhile,  you  see  before  you,  my  dear  Ad- 
hemar,  the  happiest  man  in  Paris.  I  have  suc- 
ceeded in  all  my  desires.  I  am  the  chief  of  an  office, 
the  position  for  which  I  was  ambitious  —  and  as  a 
husband  I  have  now  nothing  more  to  desire.  My 
wife  was  perfectly  foolish  in  her  love  for  me,  she 
would  have  liked  to  be  continually  hanging  on  my 
arm.  I  have  corrected  her  of  this  ridiculous  de- 
sire ;  now,  she  lets  me  go  out  as  much  as  I  wish ; 
sometimes,  even,  she  is  the  first  to  invite  me  to 
do  so  —  there's  a  young  man  who  comes  to  play 
cards  with  her,  who  takes  her  to  the  play  and  out 
walking.  I  had  some  trouble  in  getting  her  used 
to  that,  but  now  the  thing  goes  of  itself,  and  it 
leaves  me  as  much  liberty  as  I  can  wish  for.  Well, 
now,  Adhemar,  haven't  I  steered  my  bark  well  ? 
Congratulate  me,  why  don't  you  ?  " 

Adhemar  who  had  smiled  in  a  rather  equivocal 
fashion  while  the  handsome  fair  man  was  boasting 
of  his  good  fortune,  hastened  to  answer, — 


228  ADHEMAR 

"  You  have  got  where  you  wished  to  be,  Du- 
botte,  and  since  you  are  content  I  can  do  nothing, 
in  fact,  but  congratulate  you." 

"  Confound  it !  I  should  be  hard  to  please  if  I 
were  not  content.  You,  my  dear  fellow,  must  be 
so  also,  for  you  are  always  successful  and  you  earn  a 
great  deal  of  money." 

"  Happiness  does  not  always  come  from  money." 

*'  And  the  other  two  comrades,  have  you  any 
news  of  them  ?  " 

"  No,  not  since  I  left  Paris." 

**  Between  ourselves,  I  fear  that  poor  Dodichet 
has  turned  out  badly.  That  young  fellow  allowed 
himself  some  jokes  of  rather  too  risky  a  nature 
sometimes.  I  found  him  one  day  at  that  poor 
Mirotaine's;  he  had  brought  with  him  a  pretended 
suitor,  I  recognized  in  the  latter  an  apothecary  of 
Pontoise  who  was  very  happily  married.  Then 
there  was  confusion,  deception,  revolution — a  very 
ugly  joke  indeed  !  " 

"  Some  one  told  me  about  that  business.  Yes, 
Dodichet  squanders  his  life  in  the  effort  to  invent 
jokes  which  provoke  laughter  for  the  moment,  but 
which  never  result  advantageously  for  those  who 
play  them." 

"  I  am  sorry  for  it,  for  at  bottom  Dodichet  is  a 
good  fellow." 

"  A  good  fellow !  People  think  they  have  said 
everything  when  they  exclaim,  in  speaking  of  some 
one,  'He's  a  good  fellow,  a  rattling  good  fellow!' 


i 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      229 

But  I  think  that  epithet  nearly  always  indicates  a 
person  with  whom  one  would  do  well  to  avoid  any 
intimate  connection,  for  the  *  good  fellow '  is  con- 
stantly doing  something  foolish;  he  spends  his 
money  recklessly,  and  when  it  is  gone  thinks  it 
perfectly  natural  to  borrow  and  never  return  what 
he  borrows.  He  owes  his  tailor,  his  shoemaker, 
and  all  his  tradespeople.  He  has  no  longer  a  sou 
in  his  pocket,  but  if  you  propose  a  party  of  pleas- 
ure he  always  accepts  and  obliges  you  to  pay  for 
him.  Sometimes,  even,  it  is  he  who  invites  you  to 
dine  at  one  of  the  best  restaurants  In  Paris,  treats 
you  splendidly,  spares  neither  truffles  nor  cham- 
pagne ;  but  when  it  is  a  question  of  paying  the  bill, 
which  mounts  up  to  forty  francs,  can  only  find  fifty 
sous  in  his  purse  and  begs  you  to  advance  him  the 
rest;  in  fact,  he  will  ally  himself  with  the  first 
comer,  and  sometimes  finds  himself  playing  bil- 
liards with  thieves,  because  he  is  so  confiding  that 
he  calls  people  his  friends  whose  name  he  hardly 
knows ;  he  has  no  conversation,  lulls  himself  in- 
cessantly with  chimerical  illusions,  flatters  himself 
that  later  on  he  will  make  millions,  and  has  not 
what  will  buy  him  a  breakfast.  That  is  what  a 
good  fellow  Is ;  frankly,  I  prefer  a  bad  one." 

As  Adhemar  finished  speaking,  a  gentleman, 
very  meanly  dressed,  his  body  squeezed  in  an  old 
greenish  sack  coat,  buttoned  up  to  the  chin  ;  wear- 
ing a  black  tie  which  barely  allowed  the  merest  tip 
of  his  collar  to  be  seen,  and  an  old  bowler  hat  that 


230 


ADHEMAR 


was  almost  void  of  brim,  and  shod  with  trodden 
down  and  muddy  boots,  came  into  the  cafe,  limp- 
ing badly,  and  stopped  in  front  of  the  two  talkers, 
saying,— 

"  Well,  don't  you  recognize  me  ?  Here  I  am, 
faithful  to  the  appointment  we  made  last  year." 

"  Dodichet!  "  exclaimed  Adhemar  and  Dubotte 
together. 

"  Yes,  gentlemen,  Dodichet;  a  little  deteriorated 
and  extremely  shabby,  as  you  may  see,  but  still 
ready  to  laugh  when  occasion  offers." 

"  Why,  you  limp,  it  seems  to  me." 

"  Yes,  by  Jove  !  yes,  I  limp  and  hereafter,  that 
is  to  say  for  the  rest  of  my  life,  I  shall  always  limp 
—  that  is  the  result  of  a  foolish  attempt  that  I  will 
tell  you  about  presently.  But  make  room  for  me 
at  your  table." 

"  Willingly  ;  will  you  have  some  grog  or  some 
beer?" 

"  Thank  you,  if  it  is  all  the  same  to  you,  I  would 
rather  have  a  beefsteak." 

"  Waiter,  a  beefsteak  for  this  gentleman." 

"With  plenty  of  potatoes." 

They  served  Dodichet,  who,  with  his  beefsteak, 
swallowed  two  rolls  and  emptied  three  small  de- 
canter^;  it  was  evident  that  the  poor  fellow  had 
need  of  refreshment.  His  two  old  friends  respected 
his  appetite  and  refrained  from  questioning  him — 
until  he  had  finished  his  repast. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Dodichet,  "having  been  dis- 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       231 

inherited  by  my  aunt,  and  that  idiot  of  a  Seringat 
having  allowed  himself  to  fall  into  the  water  in 
fleeing  from  one  of  his  friends,  who  was  singing  a 
ballad  made  to  celebrate  his  conjugal  misfortune, 
I  had  to  make  up  my  mind  to  do  something.  I 
told  you  the  theatre  was  my  vocation.  I  think  so 
still,  but  I  must  confess  that  I  did  not  win  applause 
as  a  tenor  —  I  had  smoked  too  much  on  the  day 
of  my  first  appearance ;  in  short,  I  was  not  fortu- 
nate at  Quimper-Corentin. 

"On  my  return  to  Paris,  the  dramatic  agent 
to  whom  I  announced  that  I  wished  to  play  the 
Frederick-Lemaitres,  told  me  to  go  as  quickly  as 
possible  to  Carpentras,  where  the  person  who  played 
the  leading  parts  had  overdone  himself  in  running 
after  an  individual  who  owed  him  three  francs  fifty 
centimes.  I  went  to  Carpentras,  and  presented 
myself  to  the  manager  with  all  the  assurance  of 
which  I  am  capable ;  he  welcomed  me  with  joy, 
and  said  to  me,  *  We  want  to  give  an  extraordinary 
representation  tomorrow,  for  the  benefit  of  nurses 
who  have  no  nursHngs ;  I  want  to  play  "Thirty 
years ;  or  the  life  of  a  gambler,"  and  to  cap  it  all, 
I  have  a  young  man  of  Pithiviers,  who  makes  peri- 
lous leaps,  as  good  as  Leotard's.  Can  you  take 
the  part  of  Frederick  in  "Thirty  Years"?'  '  I  can 
take  it  immediately,  if  you  like,'  said  I,  laughing ; 
*  be  easy,  I  have  it  at  my  fingers'  ends.'  I  lied  a 
bit,  but  as  I  had  seen  the  piece  very  often  I  said 
to  myself,  *  I  know  the  entries  and  the  exits,  that's 


232  ADHEMAR 

the  principal  thing.  When  the  dialogue  escapes 
me  I  will  express  myself  by  pantomime,  or  I'll  try 
to  find  something  to  say  that  relates  to  the  situa- 
tion.' The  manager  was  delighted,  he  announced 
his  extraordinary  representation,  as  well  as  my  debut 
and  that  of  the  second  Leotard. 

"The  time  for  the  play  arrived,  the  theatre  was 
full,  the  receipts  fabulous  for  the  locality.  We 
played  *  Thirty  Years.'  I  did  not  know  a  word  of 
Georges'  part — well,  I  played  it  like  an  angel. 
The  natives  of  the  place  did  not  know  the  play  and 
so  did  not  suspect  that  I  substituted  my  prose  for 
that  of  the  author  ;  my  comrades  opened  their  eyes 
wide,  but  when  they  did  not  respond,  I  urged  them 
so  well  that  they  were  obliged  to  speak.  In  short, 
the  play  ended  with  a  great  burst  of  applause ;  I 
was  recalled,  clapped,  acclaimed.  The  manager 
kissed  me,  and  told  me  I  was  engaged. 

"At  this  moment  some  one  brought  him  a  letter, 
it  was  from  his  acrobat,  and  informed  him  that  the 
latter  had  been  recalled  to  Pithiviers  by  his  father, 
to  fill  an  extraordinary  order  for  pies,  and  that  he 
must  depart  on  the  instant.  Here  was  my  mana- 
ger at  his  wits'  end  ;  he  had  promised  some  acts  on 
the  trapeze,  the  public  expected  them ;  if  he  did  not 
give  them  they  could  demand  their  money  back, 
and  he  would  have  done  anything  in  the  world 
rather  than  give  it  back.  I  saw  the  manager's  em- 
barrassment and  I  made  him  explain  to  me  what 
the  acrobat  had  to  do.     His  act  consisted  of  run- 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      233 

ning  and  jumping  through  a  hoop,  bursting  the 
paper,  then  to  go  high  enough  to  catch  a  cord  that 
was  hanging  further  on.  *  Is  that  all  ? '  said  I, 
laughing,  to  the  manager,  '  why,  it's  as  simple  as 
the  asses'  bridge  1  I've  done  a  great  deal  more  than 
that  when  I  was  amusing  myself  at  the  gymnasium. 
Calm  yourself,  give  me  the  customary  tights  and 
fleshings  and  I'll  do  some  gymnastics  that  will  quite 
come  up  to  those  of  your  tumbler  from  Pithiviers.' 

"The  manager  fell  on  my  neck  and  promised  that 
he  would  double  my  salary,  which  did  not  commit 
him  to  much,  since  he  had  not  as  yet  made  me  any 
offer ;  then  he  went  to  tell  the  orchestra  to  play 
the  Tartar's  march  while  I  was  dressing,  and  after 
that  he  made  an  announcement  to  the  pubHc.  He 
advanced,  bowed  and  announced  that  his  tumbler 
had  been  suddenly  taken  ill,  and  that  the  actor  who 
had  just  played  the  part  of  Georges  would  replace 
him.  Everybody  lauded  me  to  the  skies ;  they 
said  among  themselves,  *  What  a  man !  he  enacts 
at  the  same  time  Frederick-Lemaitres  and  Leo- 
tard.' 

"  During  this  time  I  was  struggling  horribly  to  get 
into  the  flesh-colored  tights  which  belonged  to  the 
tumbler.  I  had  a  good  deal  of  trouble  to  manage 
it  for  they  were  terribly  narrow  for  my  rotundity, 
but  at  last  I  got  them  on.  They  struck  the  three 
blows,  the  orchestra  played  me  the  triomphe  of  Ma 
Muette,'  I  appeared ;  they  overwhelmed  me  with 
applause.     To  show  at  once  my  elasticity,  I  made 


234  ADHEMAR 

three  culverts,  one  after  the  other,  before  the  pub- 
lic; at  the  third  one  I  tore  my  tights  terribly,  and 
I  showed  not  only  my  elasticity  but  somewhat  of 
my  skin,  but  that  did  not  stop  me,  and  the  public, 
who  thought  that  I  had  another  costume  beneath 
my  fleshings,  and  that  I  was  changing  in  sight,  re- 
doubled its  applause.  That  excited  me,  animated 
me.  I  ran  to  the  trapeze,  I  broke  through  the  hoop 
and  passed  through  it;  but,  in  thinking  to  catch  the 
cord  later  on,  I  jumped  too  high  and  only  seized 
a  wing  which  I  dragged  down  with  me  to  the  stage, 
and  in  falling  I  injured  my  knee,  that  finished  the 
spectacle. 

"  I  must  render  justice  to  the  director;  it  was  in 
obliging  him  that  I  was  hurt,  he  cared  for  me,  and 
the  surgeon  did  his  work  so  well  that  I  shall  re- 
main lame  all  my  life.  Here  was  my  stage  career 
closed  to  me  at  the  outset ;  for  one  cannot  repre- 
sent Buridan  or  Kean  limping.  To  indemnify  me, 
the  manager  offered  to  employ  me  as  the  prompter 
of  the  troup.  I  accepted,  though  I  said  to  myself; 
a  prompter  is  not  a  player ;  but,  since  I  can  no 
longer  play,  I  must  prompt,  it  is  still  a  situation  in 
the  dramatic  line;  one  is  not  seen  by  the  pubHc, 
it  is  true,  but  one  is  none  the  less  useful  in  the  play, 
where  one  sometimes  takes  part  in  all  the  roles. 

"  So  here  was  I,  prompter  for  the  troup.  I  wasn't 
so  badly  off,  either,  for  after  my  accident  they  gave 
me  a  benefit,  which  was  fruitful  enough. 

"  I  passed  more  than  a  month  thus  —  when  — 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       235 

I  must  confess  it,  my  fatal  mania  for  playing  jokes 
again  took  me.  We  had  a  young  lover  who  as- 
serted that  he  never  made  a  mistake  in  playing; 
one  evening,  when  I  felt  like  laughing,  our  lover 
was  on  the  stage  with  a  princess  whom,  in  the  play, 
he  is  abducting  and  when  she  says  to  him,  with  the 
tears  running  down  her  cheeks,  *  What  are  you  go- 
ing to  do  with  me  ? '  he  made  me  a  sign  to  come 
to  his  aid,  and  I  prompted  him,  *  Oh,  you  bother 
me  !'  the  unlucky  fellow  said  that  to  the  princess. 
You  may  judge  of  the  effect  which  that  produced 
in  the  theatre ;  they  laughed,  they  shouted,  they 
called  for  it  over  again ;  the  actress  who  was  play- 
ing the  princess  gave  her  lover  a  slap  in  the  face, 
saying,  *  Take  that  to  teach  you  to  address  me  thus 
on  the  stage.' 

"  The  young  leading  man  had  some  trouble  in 
justifying  himself;  they  knew  that  I  was  the  only 
guilty  party  and  the  result  was  my  discharge.  I 
came  back  to  Paris,  where  I  was  reduced  to  prompt- 
ing in  a  so-called  suburban  theatre.  That  is  my 
history  —  that's  where  I've  got  to." 

"  Confound  it !  my  poor  Dodichet,"  said  Du- 
botte,  "it  seems  to  me  that  that  should  at  last  have 
cured  you  of  your  mania  for  playing  jokes." 

"  What  can  you  expect,  handsome  Phoebus  ?  it 
seems  that  was  my  real  vocation.  But  here's  our 
fourth  comrade  coming.  Devil  take  it !  he  must 
have  got  on,  for  he  looks  radiant,  and  he's  made 
as  great  a  change  in  his  dress  as  in  his  person." 


236  ADHEMAR 

Lucien  Grischard,  who  now  entered  the  cafe, 
was  no  longer  the  poor  fellow  in  a  threadbare 
jacket  and  with  a  face  lengthened  by  unhappiness 
and  privation,  that  he  formerly  was.  Today  his 
eyes  were  sparkling,  the  expression  of  his  face  an- 
nounced his  contentment  of  mind ;  his  costume, 
without  being  that  of  a  dandy,  indicated  that  he 
was  a  man  in  easy  circumstances  ;  he  smilingly  ex- 
tended his  hand  to  the  three  persons  with  whom  he 
had  again  met,  and  who  were  already  congratulat- 
ing him  on  the  happy  change  in  his  appearance. 

"  Good-day,  messieurs,  good-day,"  he  said,  in 
cheerful  accents.  "  I  am  the  last  to  keep  this  ap- 
pointment, but  you  will  excuse  me  when  you  know 
how  busy  I  am." 

"  Good-day,  Lucien.  What  we  already  see,  and 
with  joy,  is  that  your  position  is  ameliorated,  for 
you  seem  happy  ;  that  is  easily  read  in  your  face." 

"  And  why  should  I  not  be  happy  ?  I  am  about 
to  marry  the  one  I  love.  In  a  week  Juliette  will 
be  my  wife,  M.  Mirotaine  has  at  last  consented  to 
call  me  his  son-in-law.  I  am  at  the  height  of  my 
wishes." 

"  And  how  did  you  manage  to  arrive  there  ? 
Tell  us  all  about  it." 

"  By  means  of  work  and  perseverance.  My  pins 
have  proved  a  success,  I  made  money  by  them ; 
I  discovered  something  else,  I  made  more  money 
still  by  that  ;  I  managed  to  extend  my  busi- 
ness.    But  how  was  I  to  make   that  known  to 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      237 

M.  Mirotaine,  who  had  forbidden  me  his  house? 
That  was  the  difficulty  !  It  was  absolutely  neces- 
sary for  me  to  see  Juliette,  in  order  that  I  might 
tell  her  all  that  I  was  doing ;  it  was  necessary  to 
come  to  an  understanding  with  her,  to  give  her  the 
exact  details  of  my  position,  in  order  that  she  might 
be  able  to  say  to  her  father,  *  You  may  go  to  such 
and  such  people,  and  they  will  give  you  informa- 
tion as  to  Lucien's  position.'  Fortunately,  Juli- 
ette possessed  a  friend  who  came  to  our  aid.  This 
friend  often  obtained  permission  to  take  Juliette 
with  her,  either  to  the  bath  or  to  make  purchases, 
but  in  reality  these  ladies  came  to  join  me  in  the 
Jardin  des  Plantes,  where  I  would  wait  for  them ; 
there  I  could  arrange  with  Juliette  all  that  she  had 
to  say  to  her  father  regarding  my  position." 

"  To  the  Jardin  des  Plantes,"  cried  Adhemar, 
**  was  it  there  that  these  ladies  used  to  meet  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  and  one  day,  even,  when  I  had 
some  excellent  news  to  tell  Juliette  —  I  had  to  tell 
her  that  I  had  succeeded  in  a  new  commercial  en- 
terprise —  my  sweetheart  was  rather  unwell ;  and 
her  friend,  Madame  Dermont,  had  the  kindness 
to  come  alone  to  our  meeting  place.  I  told  her 
that  I  had  been  successful.  She  hastened  to  go 
and  inform  Juliette  of  this  happy  circumstance, 
and  M.  Mirotaine,  convinced  at  length  that  he 
was  not  being  imposed  upon,  that  I  knew  how  to 
make  money,  reopened  the  doors  of  his  house  to 
me  and  consented  to  grant  me  his  daughter's  hand.** 


238  ADHEMAR 

Dubotte  and  Dodichet  congratulated  Lucien. 
Adhemar  alone  said  nothing  to  him,  for  what  he 
had  learned  had  produced  such  a  revulsion  in  all 
his  feelings,  that  he  remained  as  one  overwhelmed 
and  had  not  the  strength  to  speak.  However, 
Dubotte  took  his  hat  and  rose,  saying, — 

"  Come,  I  see  with  satisfaction  that  we  have  all 
reached  the  situations  we  aspire  to.  There  is  only 
this  poor  Dodichet  whose  position  is  becomeworse. 
But,  after  all,  that  is  his  own  fault.  No  one  should 
prompt,  *  Oh,  you  bother  me,'  to  a  lover.  All  the 
same,  you  know  my  address,  Dodichet,  and  when 
you  find  yourself —  hard  up,  come  and  ask  me  for 
a  dinner.  I  have  always  a  place  at  my  table  for 
an  unfortunate  old  friend.  Messieurs,  excuse  me 
for  leaving  you,  but  I  must  go  and  see  whether 
Calle  can  take  my  wife  to  the  play  this  evening." 

Dubotte  had  gone.  Dodichet  prepared  to  do 
the  same,  as  he  said, — 

"  No,  I  shan't  go  and  ask  him  for  a  dinner.  If 
I  should  get  too  hard  up,  it  is  not  to  him  I  should 
go.  There  are  people  whose  benefactions  are  too 
heavy  to  carry.  Good-by,  messieurs,  I  have  eleven 
acts  to  prompt  this  evening,  I'll  go  to  my  post,  or 
to  my  hole,  it  is  the  same  thing.  I  sometimes 
feel  a  desire  to  take  a  syringe  and  prompt  with 
that.  That  would,  indeed,  be  a  good  joke.  I  shall 
wait  until  they  play  *  Pourceaugnac'  " 

"  Dodichet,  I  don't  offer  you  a  dinner,"  said 
Lucien,  "  but  I  shall  never  forget  that  you  wanted 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      239 

to  render  me  a  service.  If  you  should  find  your- 
self without  occupation,  come  and  see  me  and  I 
shall  be  able  to  tell  you  of  some  way  of  making 
a  living." 

"  Thanks,  old  fellow  ;  some  tobacco  with  that, 
and  everything  will  go  all  right." 

"  Dodichet,"  said  Adhemar,  "  my  purse  is  at 
your  disposition." 

"  I  am  well  aware  of  it,  I  know  your  kindness. 
But  I  want  to  try  and  depend  on  myself.  Besides, 
now  I  like  snails,  and  they  are  not  dear,  I  want  to 
breed  them  in  my  den,  and  that  occupies  me  be- 
tween the  acts.     Good-by,  my  dear  fellows  !  " 

When  he  was  alone  with  Adhemar,  Lucien  said 
to  the  former, — 

"You  have  not  congratulated  me  on  my  ap- 
proaching marriage.  You  seem  very  much  out  of 
sorts.  I  know  you  too  well,  however,  not  to  be 
sure  that  you  sympathize  in  my  happiness." 

"Yes,  Lucien,  yes,  I  do  sympathize  in  it.  But 
if  you  did  but  know  what  it  has  cost  me  !  It  was 
you  whom  Madame  Dermont  went  to  meet  in  the 
Jardin  des  Plantes  ? " 

"  Of  course.  Juliette  could  not  come  on  that 
day." 

"  Nathalie  went  in  a  cab  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  left  it  at  the  entrance  to  the  garden  ; 
I  conducted  her  as  far  as  the  cab,  and  I  rather  wanted 
to  get  in  with  her  that  I  might  thank  her  again  for 
her  kindness  in  coming." 


240  ADHEMAR 

"  Oh,  my  dear  fellow,  if  you  had  told  me  this 
sooner,  I  should  not  have  suspected  a  woman 
whom  I  adore." 

"  I  could  not  tell  you  sooner,  for  you  were  in 
England.  I  could  not  follow  you  there.  You 
were  angry  again,  then,  with  Madame  Dermont  ? " 

"  Yes,  my  cursed  jealousy.  I  wrote  her  a  letter 
which  contained  nothing  sensible.  I  can  see  that 
now  very  well." 

"  Console  yourself —  she  will  forgive  you." 

"  Oh,  no,  it  is  all  ended  now  ;  she  can  no  longer 
forgive  me,  and  I  am  quite  aware,  besides,  that  I 
do  not  deserve  forgiveness." 

"  Good-by,  my  dear  Adhemar,  excuse  me  for 
leaving  you  so  abruptly,  but  Juliette  is  waiting  for 
me,  and  I  have  many  preparations  to  make  for  our 
marriage." 

"  Go,  my  dear  fellow,  go.  If  I  am  unfortunate, 
at  any  rate  I  don't  wish  to  retard  the  happiness  of 
others." 

Adhemar  returned  home  alone.  What  he  had 
learned,  while  proving  to  him  that  he  had  been 
wrong  to  suspect  Madame  Dermont's  fidehty, 
caused  him,  however,  more  pleasure  than  pain  ; 
he  was  sorry,  he  was  grieved,  to  have  failed  in  his 
promises,  to  have  had  so  little  confidence  in  Nath- 
alie's love,  but,  also,  he  felt  happy,  quite  happy, 
to  know  that  she  had  not  deceived  him,  and  that 
he  might  say  to  himself,  "  She  loves  me  still." 

There  was  something  in  the  midst  of  his  sorrow, 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       241 

then,  that  made  his  heart  beat  with  delight,  and 
which  deprived  his  regret  of  its  bitterness. 

Returning  to  his  home,  Adhemar  tried  to  work. 
It  is  very  difficult  to  write  a  novel  or  a  play  when 
the  heart  is  entirely  occupied,  when  one  thought 
alone  has  possession  of  one's  mind.  But  on  re- 
flecting upon  what  he  and  his  three  friends  had 
done  during  the  year,  he  said  to  himself,  "The 
proverbs  are  always  right,  *The  little  streams  make 
the  mighty  rivers,'  for  the  effect  of  the  little  streams 
must  either  be  for  our  gain  or  our  loss.  Philemon 
Dubotte  had  a  wife  who  adored  him,  who  wanted 
to  be  hanging  on  his  arm  continually  ;  and  instead 
of  congratulating  himself  on  his  felicity  in  having 
found  such  a  phoenix,  this  gentleman  sought  on 
every  occasion  to  go  out  without  his  wife,  he  turned 
her  love  into  ridicule,  he  left  her  of  an  evening  to 
the  company  of  a  young  man  who  was  immensely 
more  amiable  to  this  lady  than  was  her  husband. 
All  these  things  were  the  little  streams  which  led 
to  a  result  which  married  people  should,  on  the  con- 
trary, try  to  avoid. 

"  Lucien  Grischard  possessed  not  the  slightest 
fortune;  but  he  had  what  was  more  substantial, 
more  solid  —  courage,  perseverance,  love  of  work. 
By  means  of  patience  and  privations,  he  could  un- 
dertake a  small  business  ;  he  made  himself  known 
and  appreciated  for  his  probity ;  little  by  little  he 
extended  his  relations, augmented  his  business,  and, 
diminutive  as  it  was  at  first,  he  made  it  lucrative. 

Vol.  XXIV 


^ 


242  ADHfiMAR 

All  these  little  streams  led  to  his  end  —  to  fortune. 
He  has  well  earned  it. 

"  Dodichet  had  everything  to  render  him  happy ; 
sufficient  means,  health  and  cheerfulness  ;  but  an 
unfortunate  mania,  to  constantly  make  game  of 
others,  to  make  jokes  and  play  tricks  on  his  friends 
and  acquaintances,  led  him  on  a  road  where  he  be- 
gan by  spending  all  that  he  had,  and  ended  by 
living  at  the  expense  of  others.  Unable  to  behave 
reasonably  in  any  employment,  he  even  managed 
to  lose  his  place  as  a  prompter  in  the  provinces,  and 
is  now  reduced  almost  to  abject  poverty  by  a  series 
of  follies  accumulated  one  on  the  other  —  and 
which  some  day  may  perhaps  lead  him  to  the  great 
river  —  for  this  is  often  the  end  of  these  joking 
humbugs  who  are  so  agreeable  in  company. 

"  As  for  myself!  ah,  I  am  unfortunate  indeed, 
and  I  have  only  myself  to  blame  for  it ;  I  had,  after 
a  good  many  light  connections,  met  a  woman  who 
was  such  as  I  had  dreamed  of,  and  I  had  the  happi- 
ness of  being  loved  by  this  woman;  I  knew,  at  last, 
that  true  love  which  is  so  sweet  to  the  heart ;  that 
love  which  so  far  excels  all  the  intoxicating  mo- 
mentary madnesses  in  which  our  youth  is  involved. 
I  was  happy,  very  happy.  But  my  cursed  jealousy 
would  not  let  me  rest.  Having  been  deceived  a 
hundred  times  by  women  who  did  not  know  how 
to  love,  I  could  not  persuade  myself  that  she  could 
be  faithful  to  me.  My  suspicions  were  unjust,  I 
had  had  proof  of  it  several  times,  but  that  did  not 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK       243 

prevent  me  from  imagining  it  anew.  These  of- 
fences so  often  repeated  have  lost  me  Nathalie's 
heart.  She  forgave  me  many  times,  but  I  can  no 
longer  hope  that  she  will  pardon  me  again  after 
that  letter  which  I  wrote  in  my  delirium  ;  I  was  not 
afraid  to  write  to  her  that  her  treachery  was  un- 
worthy, when  she  thought  of  nothing  but  assur- 
ing Juliette's  and  Lucien's  happiness;  and  I  left 
without  seeing  her,  without  even  demanding  the 
slightest  explanation  of  her  conduct.  The  fearful 
effect  of  jealousy.  I  had  promised  to  cure  myself 
of  it,  and  instead  of  that  I  began  all  over  again. 
Ah,  I  did  not  deserve  to  be  loved  sincerely." 

And  Adhemar,  who  held  his  arm  on  his  desk, 
rested  his  forehead  in  his  hand  and  would  have 
remained  in  that  position  for  a  long  time,  if  a  little 
hand  had  not  rested  on  his  shoulder  while  a  well- 
known  voice  said  in  his  ear, — 

"  And  yet  I  love  you  still,  monsieur." 

Those  accents  had  touched  the  poor  lover's  heart, 
he  raised  his  head  —  Nathalie  was  beside  him,  she 
smiled  at  him,  looked  as  tenderly  at  him  as  of  old. 
He  uttered  an  exclamation,  he  stammered, — 

"  Is  it  possible  that  you  can  forgive  me  again?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  of  necessity  I  must.  Wait,  look 
here — at  your  scar — your  burn.  You  see  that  I 
must  always  forgive  you  !  " 

"  Good  God !  I  fear  my  happiness  is  but  a 
dream." 

"  No,  monsieur ;  Lucien  came  and  told  me  how 


244  ADHEMAR 

sad  and  unhappy  you  were.  I  thought  you  had 
been  punished  enough  and  I  came.  Was  I  wrong?" 

"  Oh,  you  are  good!  I  do  not  really  deserve  to 
be  loved  thus." 

"Are  you  going  to  begin  over  again?" 

"  Ah,  this  time,  Nathalie,  I  swear  to  you." 

**  Don't  swear  1  Believe  me,  vows  amount  to 
nothing.  One  can  conduct  one's  self  without  mak- 
ing any  promises." 

And  now,  readers,  do  you  want  to  know  what 
became  of  these  personages,  few  though  they  be, 
who  have  figured  in  this  simple  study  of  contem- 
poraneous life  ? 

In  the  first  place  Dubotte  continued  to  be — very 
content;  his  wife  no  longer  incessantly  hung  on  his 
arm,  she  let  him  go  out  alone  as  much  as  he  pleased. 
Sometimes,  even,  she  was  the  first  to  refuse  to  ac- 
company him,  she  had  acquired  a  great  liking  for 
the  game  of  bezique,  and  young  Calle  was  always 
ready  to  come  and  play  a  game  with  her. 

Lucien  Grischard,  after  he  became  Juliette's 
husband,  did  not  cease  to  love  his  wife  and  to 
work ;  also  his  business  prospered,  and  they  lived 
in  a  perpetual  honeymoon. 

Dodichet,  having  thought  it  would  be  funny  to 
smoke  in  the  den  of  a  little  theatre  where  he  was 
prompting,  had  set  fire  to  the  stage  and  had  been 
found  burned  to  death  as  the  result  of  this  last 
joke. 

M.  Mirotaine,  not  having  found  any  one  who 


CHARLES  PAUL  DE  KOCK      245 

wanted  to  come  to  his  parties  in  the  winter,where  they 
served  hot  liquorice  water  to  the  company,  decided, 
for  the  sole  refreshment,  to  open  the  windows  ; 
but  when  any  one  treated  him  to  a  dinner  or  a 
breakfast  at  a  restaurant,  he  did  not  fail  to  empty 
the  salt  cellar  and  the  pepper  caster  into  two  httle 
paper  cornets  which  he  put  in  his  pocket. 

M.  Brid'oison  continued  to  be  delighted  with 
the  agility  and  skill  exhibited  by  his  son  in  gym- 
nastics. Little  Artaban  could  not  enter  a  draw- 
ing-room without  making  a  culvert ;  and  the  papa 
flattered  himself  that  this  fashion  would  be  adopted 
by  the  ladies. 

Madame  Putiphar,  the  dealer  in  toilet  articles, 
still  arranges  marriages  in  the  interest,  not  of  young 
girls,  but  of  second-hand  cashmere  shawls  which 
she  puts  in  the  brides'  baskets. 

Mademoiselle  Boulotte  is  now  trying  to  make 
vegetable  rouge  with  —  one  thing  or  another. 

We  all  have,  here  below,  our  inclinations,  our 
little  streams,  which  lead  us,  the  one  towards  the 
good,  the  other  towards  the  evil.  We  must  try 
to  avoid  the  latter  and  to  follow  those  of  which 
the  water  is  pure  and  the  borders  flowery  ;  these  are 
the  good  ones. 


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